


Strike Up the Band (Sequel to Blind Faith)

by FireflySummerwynd



Category: Poison (US Band)
Genre: Concert Band, F/M, Marching Band, Multi, band director, jazz band
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-23
Updated: 2020-06-26
Packaged: 2021-03-04 06:40:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 36,943
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24869272
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FireflySummerwynd/pseuds/FireflySummerwynd
Summary: Time's continued to pass ever since Richie was fired from Poison for supposedly having an affair with his bassist's wife, and said bassist choseta follow him out the door, so to speak–almost three Years, to be precise. A lot's Changed, but some things stay the same to this Day–such as their mutual Love of Music and their family, which's been growing steadily.Shared wife Lyric was just as desperate to get outta the City and away from all the speculation and invasions of privacy. Even though she swore she never would, she wound up helping her menfolk move the family–which now includes two kids for the younger brunette–to her home State of North Carolina. At least there's plenty of Land to just turn them looseta run around and play, not to mention plenty of placesta hide from the vultures known as paparazzi–not to mention her mens' former band mates and management.But even with such a drastic Change in career–from recording and touring rock starsta just average Joes teaching school-age band classes–can Bobby and company manage to keep it together? Especially when Lyric's abusive mother makes a Return in a surprising way?
Relationships: Bobby Dall/Lyric Dall-Kotzen, Richie Kotzen/Lyric Dall-Kotzen





	1. One

_August, 1996_

_Mebane, North Carolina_

Not quite three Years after quitting his band, thirty-two-Year-old Bobby Dall walked in for the first Day at his new job. After putting himself through the remains of high school and enough college to earn an Associate’s degree in education, he’d applied for a job at every single school in the Alamance-Burlington School System. His Intent wasta nab whichever position for a Music teacher or band director came open first, but he was technically qualified to teach just about anything he wanted to.

As it so happened, the high school almost within spitting distance of where he and his family’d picked to build their new home after moving from California Ended up needing a band director pretty quickly. The woman who’d filled the position before went out on maternity leave right before the End of the last school Year, then decided over the Summer that she’d rather be a stay-at-home mommy. He certainly didn’t have any problems with that–his own wife, whom he shared with a former band mate, was a stay-at-home mommy. Besides, it opened up a position for him at the very high school he’d say was his top pick outta any other in the county.

The band mate he shared his wife with, twenty-six-Year-old Richie Kotzen, had somehow managed to snag the same job all but right next door. Just down the Hill from Eastern Alamance High was Woodlawn Middle, and their band director’d decided to retire at the End of the last school Year. All that mattered to these two technically former rock stars was that their preferred jobs in the schools at the top of their lists’d come open at the perfect Time.

“Good Morn, sir,” the receptionist–a Mrs. Gentry–greeted him as he walked into the main office. “How can I help ya today?”

“Just got hired as the new band director,” he chuckled.

“Ah, Mr.–uh, I’m not too sure _how_ to pronounce your name,” Mrs. Gentry admitted, sounding sheepish.

“Let’s just go with Dall–been doing that for Years already, anyway,” the former bassist told her.

“All right, that works,” she agreed, pushing herself up outta her chair. “Let’s go see how busy Mr. Ebert is since he’ll wanna meetcha for himself.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Bobby said, gesturing for her to lead the way.

Following her down the hall, he couldn’t help rolling his eyes at the bland and boring Color the main office was painted. Then again, it wasn’t like it was a recording studio or anything, so he really shouldn’t have been surprised there wasn’t much with even the school Colors on it. But before he could really let his Thoughts derail, the receptionist knocked on an open door at the End of the hall on the left.

Mrs. Gentry was quick to introduce him to the main principal, Mr. Dave Ebert, who handled pretty much everything from the rest of the faculty to Discipline for all four grades that attended this school. The former bassist wasn’t surprised by the somewhat disapproving look the man shot his braid when he tossed it back over his shoulder. Even as he shook the principal’s hand, he made no bones about refusing to cut his hair unless his wife demanded it, or he got tired of his kids pulling it. It’d been long for so long, he honestly couldn’t remember the last Time it’d been cropped short, and he didn’t wanna imagine it any shorter.

The principal seemed to ponder his words for a moment, then asked how long it’d been grown out to at least his shoulders. Bobby chuckled and admitted that he’d kept his hair grown out for upwards of two decades–the exact length depended on any given Time period they were talking about. He said he was willing to keep it braided, both for professionalism’s sake and to keep it from annoying him all Day, but that was as good as they were getting outta him unless he actually wanted it cut.

Dave appeared to be willing to work with that, nodding as he roseta lead him to what was technically his new classroom. He went over what faculty were typically reminded of–everything from school rulesta when each class period was supposed to start–as he led him away. It turned out that the band room–not to mention his separate office–actually wasn’t far from the main office, really just around the corner from the Art room and dance studio at the End of the hall that housed said office. There were faculty bathrooms along that hallway that required a key to get in, mostly to keep students from hiding in there to skip class so they could smoke cigarettes and weed.

“You’re gonna have first lunch,” he told him as he unlocked his office door, then the band room doors, before handing him the appropriate keys.

“Any particular difference?” Bobby asked, cocking a brow as he set his messenger bag down on the provided desk.

“Well, since we run on block scheduling so we’ve four block periods, third block gets split into four periods of its own, if ya will,” the principal explained. “Each of those four mini-periods is one of the lunch periods, and depending on what part of campus one’s classroom’s in, that determines their lunch period.”

“All right, then–guess I can’t really argue with that,” he said, nodding. “Don’t be surprised, if I disappear from campus during my lunch period, then.”

Dave cocked a brow at him, which earned him a chuckle as he pushed up his shirt sleeve.

“Still working on quitting,” the former bassist told him, pointing out the nicotine patch affixed to his bicep. “Not quite there yet, but better than damn near two packs a Day, give or take.”

“Good thing you’ve come prepared, then,” he laughed. “’Cuz this campus is a strict no-smoking zone.”

“Can’t stop me from lighting up, if I cross the street, though,” Bobby snickered. “’Cuz not only am I technically _off_ campus, but I’m on my own property.”

“Wait, really?” The principal looked surprised by that. _“You’re_ the one who built that giant house over there?”

“So, I’ve a big family that needs a lotta room already,” he said with a grin. “Wouldn’t be surprised, if we Ended up adding to it later on, too–and that’s not including any guest Spaces for…well, having guests.”

“I guess I’m just surprised ’cuz of the amount of money that no doubt woulda been needed for a place like that,” Dave mused.

“Let’s just say I busted my hump in more ways than one for nearly fifteen Years, and it made me a lot more money than just your average nine-to-five,” the former bassist chuckled.

“Do ya mind my asking what kinda job woulda done that?” He cocked a brow curiously.

“Go find a copy of the albums _Look What the Cat Dragged In, Open Up and Say…Ahh!, Flesh and Blood,_ and _Native Tongue_ by Poison, andja can hear it,” Bobby laughed.

“Wait, ya were in that band?” Mrs. Gentry asked from where she’d been keeping quiet for the moment.

Nodding, he refused to go into detail other than to say that nearly a decade with the majority of the same guys’d finally made him hit his limit for crazy. His last straw’d been when his wife was accused of having an affair with a band mate a few Years ago, which wasn’t true in the slightest. The former bassist didn’t say that was ’cuz he willingly shared her with said band mate, ’cuz given the area they’d moved to, he’d been warned that such a relationship dynamic’d _really_ be frowned upon.

As he took things like his attendance roster and the few things he needed to hand out to every student in each of his three class periods–one period was his planning period, after all–Bobby said that he’d wanted outta his band before he lost what remained of his mind. It’d been his wife who’d talked him into getting his teaching degree, ’cuz if he was lucky, he’d be able to land a job like the one he now had. While it was vastly different than what he’d done with his Life previously, at least it still involved Music, not to mention allowed him to help those who were serious about learning how to play an instrument better.

He made it quite clear that he was done dealing with paparazzi, and that he’d just as soon quit this job and move elsewhere before he let the vultures hound him at work. After all, he’d always been the quietest, most private guy in the band–at least, till Richie came along and took his title of quietest. The last thing he wanted now wasta deal with that garbage after finally escaping it and managing to start over elsewhere.

“Duly noted,” Dave told him, nodding. “First period starts at eight, so you’ve about forty-five minutesta get yourself set up.”

“Sounds good,” the former bassist agreed. “Although honestly, I’m thinking about locking up shop and stepping off campus while I can.”

“If that’s whatcha want,” he said. “Ya don’t necessarily _have_ to lock the band room doors, but I’d definitely recommend locking your _office_ door when you’re not in there.”

Bobby couldn’t help cocking a brow as he slipped the keys he’d been given onto his key ring.

“A lotta teachers allow their studentsta just hang out in their classrooms before first period starts,” the principal explained. “Not all do, but some don’t mind the company this early in the Morn.”

“I think I’ll keep the doors locked, if I’m stepping off campus altogether,” he told him. “Outta the room and just down the hall’s one thing, but I’m sure a lotta money gets spent on certain instruments that’re loaned out, if only due to their size.”

“That’s definitely true,” Dave agreed, nodding as he watched him lock the band room doors.

“As a musician in my own right, I can safely say I’ve almost committed murder over my gear getting damaged or completely Destroyed, if I didn’t do it myself,” the former bassist chuckled. “I mean, I was once described as liking to smash my bass guitars, whether I was in a _good_ mood or feeling particularly hostile.”

Neither the principal, nor the receptionist who’d originally greeted him could help a laugh when he admitted that. At least it got the point that he appreciated instruments and how much they could cost like only a musician could, and that he’d every Intent to keep the school’s instruments in good working order. That certainly meant less money to have to be spent on repairs or replacements, which’d help keep the school’s–and therefore, school _system’s_ –costs down.

Gesturing to the doors at the very End of the hall next to the Art room, he told him that they led down to the bus lot. Situated between the high school and its neighbor, it was right out front where he could cross the street and hide in the Tree line for his smoke breaks. He’d prefer that he didn’t smoke in the open, even if he _was_ on his own property, unless he was too far away to be seen clearly.

Bobby didn’t necessarily like that, considering he wasn’t kidding about being on his own property once he crossed the street, but didn’t bother arguing. He knew of a couple good placesta hide, if he didn’t feel like walking all the way up to his back deck–or didn’t have the Time, depending on when he did this. One good spot was in the lil Hidden Cave under the man-made Waterfall that flowed into his pool, said Cave overlooking mostly the deep End. It was the perfect placeta hide so he could see the school he now worked for–not to mention his entire back yard–due to the Direction the pool and its surrounding Tropical Oasis faced, but not _be_ seen by anybody, if he didn’t wanna be.

Once he’d practically hot-boxed a couple smokesta help Calm him down, the former bassist stubbed out in the ash tray he’d grabbed. At least he kept his body spray in his bag now, something he’d started doing while studying for his degree since he obviously couldn’t shower in the middle of the Day then any more than he could now. That was what made him jog across both his yard and the street, a quick check in each Direction revealing he was safe to cross. Now, he’d about twenty minutes before his first class was supposed to start, and he certainly hoped it went well.

Arriving back at his office door, he saw a handful of kids leaning back against the wall that made up the back–or maybe more aptly front–side of the band room. Most of them were sitting Indian-style, a few with their legs stretched out in front of them, and almost all of them were chatting with one another. Pretty much all of them glanced up when they heard his boots tapping against the tile floor, most prolly mistaking him as one of their classmates at first. Bobby wouldn’t deny that he’d always been the most baby-faced of his former band–well, till Richie came along, that is–so it was hard to tell how old he was most Times. Seeing him pull keys outta his pocket to unlock his office door quickly corrected them, though, and he knew his new students were gonna be full of questions for him once class started.

“Good Morn, everyone!” he said, using the way his voice liked to reverberate to get everyone’s attention as he walked into the band room moments after the bell rang.

Every pair of eyes in the room snapped over to him, the jaws of a few of the kids he’d seen sitting in the hall dropping as he made his way to his stand up front.

“My name’s Mr. Dall,” the former bassist said, unable to help scrunching his nose slightly. “It’s a pleasure to’ve been hired as your new band director.”

“Dall, as in _baby doll?”_ one of the girls in the first row asked.

“Nope!” Bobby couldn’t help a laugh as he rose, quickly scrawling his title across the white board behind him.

“Weird name, man,” one of the young men in the back of the room laughed.

“Not as weird as my _actual_ surname,” he retorted as he turned back around, a smirk curving his lips. “And don’t ask what it is–most can’t pronounce it, so I’m not even bothering.”

The entire class–which was half this Year’s marching band–cracked up for a few moments.

“Now, a few things about myself,” Bobby said. “I’ve been called a slave-driver in the Past– _somebody’d_ to be on my old job, and it wound up being me. My background in Music’s decently extensive, although I certainly won’t claim to be any kinda scholar on it or anything, I love cooking and the Color blue, and I can almost guarantee you’ll all be wrong, if ya ever try guessing how old I am.”

“I’d have to say you’re prolly closeta twenty,” one of the girls in the third row snickered.

The former bassist couldn’t help an amused snort as he settled back on his stool for the moment. “What I wouldn’t give to be that young, dumb, and _naïve_ again, girlie.”

“Ya can’t be _that_ old,” she shot back.

“You’re right–I’m _not_ that old, even though I wouldn’t be surprised, if I’ve a few gray hairs by now,” he chuckled. “But I’ve always been baby-faced, so it’s often hard to tell how old I really am, if one doesn’t already know.”

One of the girls in the second row actually raised her hand, which made him gesture to let her know she’d the floor. Bobby wasn’t surprised when she said she was curious about what he meant by his background in Music being decently extensive and asked him to elaborate. He warned them that he wasn’t going into explicit detail ’cuz some details were just that–explicit and then some–but he gladly admitted to knowing his way around a few different instruments. Most of them were some sorta string instruments, but he’d also taught himself how to play a few of the ones _they_ no doubt played in recent Years.

It was one of the young men in the second row who asked what he meant by that, and the former bassist wasn’t the least bit shy about answering his question. He made no bones about being a guitarist first, bassist second, and pianist third, in terms of what he enjoyed playing and was best at. That wasn’t to say that he didn’t enjoy Music as a whole–he just had his preferences like pretty much anyone else was bound to.

“So, what madeja decide to become a band director?”

Bobby made a notation of the student’s presence as he pondered his answer, given that he’d been ticking off which ones were present and absent as he called on them. “A desperate bid to retain at least a _lil_ Sanity, I guess ya could say.”

The entire class cocked their brows curiously, none of them quite sure what he meant.

“I spent roughly fifteen Years in a band,” the former bassist elaborated. “World-famous, got a record deal or three–the works. But with the money, Success, and fame came substance abuse, in-fighting, and just too much Insanity for a guy trying to do his best and raise kids at the same Time.”

“Wait, you’ve kids?” one guy asked, looking surprised.

“Two of the annoyingly lovable lil rugrats,” he chuckled, nodding. “And they know every last button of Daddy’s to push for smiles, laughs, and busted butts, too.”

Another round of laughter ensued before the class settled down enough for him to continue.

“But after fifteen Years–eleven of which were spent writing and recording Music, not to mention touring–it was Time to cash in my chips, so to speak,” Bobby said. “I just didn’t wanna give up Music altogether, so my wife talked me into trying my hand at this.”

Several of the girls scattered throughout the room seemed a bit dejected at the Thought of him being married, which he found amusing.

“So, what band were ya a part of, if it was good enough to be World-famous?” one of the guys asked.

 _“Mmmm…”_ The former bassist tapped his chin thoughtfully, trying to figure out a hint he could give them.

“Well?” the girl next to him asked, sounding curiously impatient.

“I’m trying to think of a hint that won’t get me locked up in jail since I’m not actually gonna say it,” he laughed. “How ’bout I really needed _something to believe in_ when I met my wife a few Years ago?”

It wasn’t lost on any of the students in front of him how he put emphasis on a certain four words, which he’d done Intentionally.

“Course, I guess that’s to be expected when ya go into something with only some raw talent and a lil _blind Faith,”_ Bobby chuckled.

While he let them ponder his hint and what band it could possibly tie back to, he started passing out what he’d been given by the principal. He knew that a lotta it was shit that’d to be taken home, signed by their parents or other guardians, and brought back to be turned in to him. It was for that very reason that he’d absolutely no Intention of assigning any kinda homework, especially since it was the first Day of school.

Once they were turned looseta just chill till the dismissal bell rang so they could head off to their second class, the former bassist wasn’t surprised that a handful of the kids moved closer to him. He’d been expecting questions galore, and he wasn’t surprised that a few of the guys wanted to know more about his experiences in his former band. Laugh after chuckle bubbled up from his throat as he said that it’d certainly been a once-in-a-Lifetime kinda experience, and he wouldn’t go back to Change any of what he’d been through for anything. But at the same Time, he refused to go into detail so he wouldn’t get himself in trouble, particularly with any of the school’s higher-ups.

Before he knew it, that dismissal bell was ringing, and this particular group of kids seemed a bit bummed to have to leave already. He assured them that he wasn’t going anywhere without something drastic happening, ’cuz he was ready for some Peace and quiet. Besides, after busting his hump the way he’d done for upwards of a decade, he was ready for some more relaxed work, or he’d have opened a restaurant or something, given how he loved to cook.

The next group of kids seemed to wander in slowly, yet like they were excited to meet their new band director over the next few minutes. Bobby knew he was gonna wind up going through the same process as before, and while part of him dreaded it, another part looked forward to it. He couldn’t help wondering if his brunette counterpart-turned-equivalent was feeling the same way just down the Hill, but he supposed he’d find out once they both got home from work later that Eve.


	2. Two

By the Time he got home from the first Day at his new job as a middle school band director, Richie couldn’t say that he wasn’t absolutely bushed. He always had trouble sleeping the Night before something big, like starting a new job, so it wasn’t any kinda surprise that he was so tired now. That, and it’d taken his shared wife rolling over and riding him almost into oblivion–which’d left him tired in its own right–to _really_ get to sleep. And that hadn’t happened till easily after Midnight, despite knowing he’d to be up by at least six, or he was gonna be late on his first Day.

Walking through the front door of the house he’d helped Bobby pay for that’d only recently been finished couldn’t have felt any better than it did. Even walking through the front door of their previous house for the first Time after having his cock filleted a few Years ago to repair damage done when former band mate Bret’d yanked him off his now-wife by his hair hadn’t felt this good. And that was saying something, considering that he hadn’t liked being stuck in the hospital, and definitely hadn’t liked coming home cathed.

He couldn’t help the tired smile that crossed his face as he heard several giggles from the living room to his left as he snuck through the front hall. The first place he was going was his bedroom on what the builders called the second floor, but _he_ called a loft area over the garage. After all, the house _looked_ like it was only two stories from the exterior, so other than calling it some really weird kinda split-level, he didn’t know what else _to_ call it. What the younger brunette _did_ know was that he wanted to put down what he’d taken to work with him, not to mention kick off his Chucks and take a piss before he got pounced on. He loved the kids–even the ones that belonged to his former band mate-turned-equivalent–but those few things came before even the kids.

Practically as soon as he stepped outta his bathroom, Richie heard ecstatic cries of _Daddy!_ and _Daddy Bobby!_ from the foyer, which meant said older brunette was now home, too. Heading down those few steps from the landing outside his bedroom door, he wasn’t disappointed to see a grown man tackled and all but buried under a pile of happy kiddos.

“Ack–Daddy…can no…breaves!” Bobby feigned choking where he was sprawled on his back, no doubt where he’d purposely fallen so they wouldn’t knock him down. “Gon’…dies!”

_“Nuuuu!”_ The kids all shrieked as he seemingly went limp and stopped breathing, his head now turned to the side.

The younger brunette couldn’t help a soft chuckle, which made the kids all gasp and look over at him.

“Chu boogers gets off him, and I betcha him’s breaving bags’ll start working again,” he chuckled, butting a shoulder up against the wall.

Within seconds, the kids’d scrambled off the older brunette’s prone form, his own daughter running over to practically attach herself to his leg.

“Kill Daddy Bobby!” she whimpered as he picked her up.

“We must need to count down and use teh magick word,” Richie chuckled. “One…two…”

“Abracadabra!” the kids all screamed in unison.

Bobby’s eyes flew open at the same Time he sucked in a sharp breath, and he knew he was the only one who’d seen his chest slowly falling as he let out the breath he’d been holding.

“Ya nuts.”

Glancing over at the hallway that led to the living room, he wasn’t disappointed to see their shared wife, who held the son he’d fathered against her swollen breasts.

“It’s a Wonder I’ve any Sanity left anymore,” Lyric chuckled, letting the older brunette grab her hand to haul himself up once he’d reached up.

“Ya know ya love us, sweetheart,” he chuckled.

The young woman didn’t bother trying to deny that as she hummed into the kiss he leaned down to give her once he was on his feet.

“Chu boogers go pounce on Daddy Richie now while Daddy’s putting mah stuffs ups,” Bobby told his son and daughter, Zeppelin and Aria. “Daddy’ll be in the living room in a few minutes.”

Said kids giggled and squealed as they ran for him, wrapping their arms around his waist as they moved to stand on each of his feet. The younger brunette couldn’t help a laugh as he readjusted his own daughter, Soleil, so she was cradled as if she were an infant again, not two Years old. Widening his stance enough to keep from hurting anyone, he practically waddled toward the living room with kids clinging to damn near every part of him–or like he was fresh outta that surgery on his cock again.

In said living room, Richie flopped on the side of their L-shaped couch that faced away from the dining room, the kids all laughing as that took them down with him. He didn’t even care that his ass was barely on the couch as the older of the kids finally let go and scrambled onto the couch to snuggle against his sides. Not even his own daughter practically laying on his chest like when she was a baby could be considered uncomfortable right now. Gods only knew his feet hurt worse than anything these goofballs could do to him besides maybe an accidental nut-shot. Then again, after having his cock filleted, not even taking a nut-shot–accidental or otherwise–really hurt him anymore, weird as that wasta say.

Bobby soon Returned from the master suite, which practically wrapped around the living room behind where the fireplace was. He looked just as relieved to let his hair down outta the braid their shared wife’d put it in that Morn and to kick off his boots as he was, himself. Judging by the satisfied groan he let out as he flopped down on the other side of the couch, getting off his feet felt damn good, too.

Chuckling as he glanced over, the younger brunette said he knew the feeling all too well, even though he’d purposely worn Chucks that Morn. Returning the chuckle, he said he was prolly gonna have to follow his lead the next Morn, ’cuz even though he’d spent a lotta the Day on his ass, his feet still felt like they were gonna fall off. Either that, or grow legs and feet of their own so they could hop off his ankles and run away screaming like they’d seen something terrifying. He wasn’t too sure which, and quite honestly, he wasn’t too sure he really cared, as tired as he was after a Day of answering the same Endless questions over and over again.

“Gods, I know the feeling _there,_ too, man,” Richie laughed.

“I mean, it was fun monkeying with their heads all Day,” the older brunette chuckled. “I’ve a few that already figured out what band I was part of, but they’re sworn to Secrecy before I wind up getting mobbed somewhere on campus.”

“What about the other teachers?” he asked curiously. “I’d one who wanted me to sign last Year’s yearbook just for shits and giggles, even though I wasn’t faculty last Year.”

“Eh, a couple other teachers recognized me, too,” Bobby answered. “Luckily, they didn’t say anything till they caught me at lunch when I hid in my office.”

“Lucky bastard,” the younger brunette said with a smirk. “’Cuz I’d _kill_ to have my own officeta hide in, rather than having to lock my classroom door to get some Peace and quiet.”

“Hey, watch it, or I’ll drag ya up to Eastern for a Day,” he laughed. “’Cuz marching band ain’t my only class this semester.”

As it so happened, one of his classes was actually Music appreciation, and it was even more of a filler class than some other electives were. One of the things they were gonna do over the course of the semester was work their way up through even what was popular in the last decade. Both of them’d more experience there than prolly any other band directors that’d ever lived, so he’d already considered the idea. Why not have a guy he’d worked with before join him for his third-period class, even if he’d to technically take a personal Day to do it?

Richie’s expression shifted to a thoughtful one as he pondered the idea, and it didn’t take him long to nod his agreement. All he’d to do was let him know when he was planning on doing such a thing so he could either take that personal Day, or simply get the chorus teacher across the hall to keep an eye on even his students as they got an extra free Day while he was up at the high school. It didn’t really matter to him, as long as he knew at least a couple weeks in advance so he could let his own principal know what their plan was. After all, no matter who covered him and for how long, he’d to let Mrs. Wendy Nelms know, or he was gonna get himself in trouble.

It wasn’t long before Lyric was shooing everyone out onto the back deck, having decided that it was too pretty _not_ to eat dinner outside. Even Bobby couldn’t deny that was true, whether his feet were killing him enough to wanna drop down and crawl outside like a baby to avoid putting any pressure on them. Then again, they could always head down to the hot tub once the kids’d eaten, been bathed, and were in bed for the Night. No doubt that’d help both of them relax enough to get a good Night’s sleep, which’d help more than anything else possibly could right now.

A couple hours later, with all the kids in bed and at least dozing off for the Night, the trio of adults were left with a lil free Time before they headed off to bed, themselves. Neither of the menfolk argued walking off the back deck, then up the expanse along the nearer side of the pool that was designed to look and feel more like a Beach than it wasn’t. The warm Sand under their feet certainly felt good, enough that they barely paid attention to crossing the Bridge made of a flat boulder that crossed over the lazy River, which drained into the deep End of the pool.

Once settled in the hot tub that was more or less situated in its own lil island, both men sighed and let out pleasured groans as they propped their feet up to let the jets massage them. Lyric couldn’t help a soft laugh as she settled between them, an arm wrapped around each of their necks as she pulled them closer. Twin sighs rang out again as they slumped sideways, damn near kissing each other as they both rested their heads on her chest in ways that wouldn’t hurt her.

“Sweetheart, just a heads-up,” Bobby said, readjusting his head so he could be heard clearly over the roiling Water they were sitting in. “I let Mr. Ebert know ya might fill in for me, if I’ve to call out with a migraine before we left today.”

“And he’s cool with that?” the young woman asked. She’d been working on getting her own teaching degree, but was still in the phase of being a student teacher.

“Yeah, he’s cool with it,” he answered, nodding slightly. “He said that if I wake up with a migraine so bad, I’m worshipping the Porcelain God, he’d rather _you_ fill in for me–even if no one else can supervise ya–than for me to try coming to work like that.”

“Mrs. Nelms said pretty much the same thing,” Richie agreed from her other side. “Course, I don’t get migraines as often, so I doubt that’ll happen as much with me.”

“Hey, as long as they’re both cool with it, so am I,” she told them. “Y’all just better still be able to handle a baby, even when you’ve a migraine, ’cuz it ain’t like I’ll be able to take Lachlan with me.”

“I think either of us can handle him, even with a migraine, sweetheart,” the older brunette chuckled.

“And that’s with Soleil added to it,” his younger equivalent agreed with a chuckle of his own.

“Long as I ain’t gotta call a babysitter for the kids just ’cuz one of y’all’s out like a Light, I’m cool with filling in for y’all, if need be,” the young woman said. “But let’s hope that doesn’t End up happening, if we can help it.”

Both brunettes nodded where their heads still lay on her breasts, which were tender due to nursing her two-month-old son, but still as soft as they ever were. If they were honest, they were prolly _softer_ than they’d ever been, even when they were so full of milk, she desperately needed to pump. Maybe that was why they liked seeing her pregnant so much–or maybe it was just ’cuz, even though she griped the entire nine months, they knew that deep down, she actually enjoyed pregnancy.

Within an hour, Bobby and Richie were both damn near asleep in the hot tub, and it was all she could do to wake them up enough to get them back into the house. Thankfully, they were able to get inside under their own power once she’d woken them up enough, even though they were practically sleep-walking. As the older brunette shuffled off to the master bedroom with a yawn, she gently herded her younger husband into his own bedroom. He knew it was his equivalent’s Night with her since she alternated which of their beds she slept in just about every Night so she could keep things Balanced, so he didn’t try to argue when she tucked him in like a child with a quick _good-Night_ kiss.

After tucking him in, Lyric straightened and quietly left his room so she could head upstairs just long enough to check on the rest of the kids. She figured she might as well while she was still on this side of the house, then head back downstairs and across the houseta the master suite. In the bedroom across from the upstairs living room, Zep was knocked out cold, sprawled on his back much like every Night since he was born. Across said living room right over the master suite, Aria and Soleil were both knocked out in one of the sets of bunk beds in the bunk room.

The young woman couldn’t help the tender smile on her face as she headed down to the master suite, now assured that her older kids were all sleeping peacefully. Once in said master suite, she headed over to the lil sitting area she’d insisted on setting up as a mini nursery to check on baby Lachlan. Assured that even he was sleeping peacefully, she finally joined her older husband, ready for a good Night’s sleep of her own.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so the actual house I'm using as a model in this chapter's in Hilton Head Island, South Carolina. For purposes of the story, I've decided to move it to a small, but growing Town called Mebane (pronounced _Meh-ban,_ damn it! LOL!), which's in Central _North_ Carolina.
> 
> As for the pool... Well, the house _it's_ technically part of is in So Cal. I found it a few Years ago when I was doing a lotta role playing with a former best friend, and it's still one of my favorites. This pool got picked, though, to give Bobby a lil taste of home since he wanted to move to Florida, but Lyric and Richie both vetoed that idea.  
> ~Firefly
> 
> Link to House–https://www.zillow.com/homedetails/6-Whistling-Swan-Rd-Hilton-Head-Island-SC-29928/68792735_zpid/?
> 
> Link to Pool–https://www.zillow.com/homes/for_sale/54900436_zpid/globalrelevanceex_sort/34.204296,-118.779781,34.177175,-118.823555_rect/14_zm/?


	3. Three

Only three weeks into the school Year, Bobby woke with his first migraine so bad, the entire family knew he wasn’t gonna be able to get up for more than potty breaks the entire Day. Just cracking open his eyes and glancing at his alarm clock to turn off said alarm made his head pound, and hard enough to make him retch without even sitting up. Luckily, his shared wife was quick to get him the trash can from her side of the bed, gently tying his hair back in a loose ponytail to keep him from getting vomit in it.

Even Richie couldn’t help a wince as she came outta the master suite, their son still sleeping peacefully in his crib in that lil sitting area-turned-nursery. Giving her a quick kiss, he said he’d leave a lil earlier than normal so he could run up to Eastern and let their head principal know what was going on while she was taking Zep and Aria to school. If it weren’t for South Mebane Elementary being across town, he wouldn’t have taken it upon himself to do such a thing. Unfortunately, they both knew she wouldn’t have Time to take the kidsta school _and_ let Dave know what was going on without _somebody_ being late.

With the older kids dropped off a bit earlier than normal, Lyric headed back across town to the high school her older husband taught at. Parking her Blazer around back nearest the back doors of the building where the band room was brought back a lotta memories for her. She’d never actually driven herself to school, ’cuz she’d wound up transferring to Graham High before she could get her license, but she’d spent two Years here.

Quick to grab her stuff, the young woman made sure her truck was locked before heading into the building so she could put said stuff in Bobby’s office. Once she’d her hands freed up, her Intent wasta head to the main officeta essentially check in so Dave Ebert knew she was on campus now. Course, that particular man brought back memories in his own right, ’cuz he’d been the head principal here when she was a student. It was almost like everything was coming back full Circle for her–having been a student in this school and coming back as at least a sub almost a decade later. Maybe it was one of the Universe’s ways of bringing her resolution and closure when it came to her Past in this small Town, which’d always be considered a good thing.

“Good Morn.”

Walking into the main office, she was greeted by the same receptionist who’d worked this desk when she was a student.

“How can I help ya this Morn?” she asked.

“Woodlawn’s band director, Mr. Kotzen, said he was gonna drop by on his way in and letcha know Mr. Dall was gonna be taking a personal Day,” Lyric answered.

“Ah, yeah–Rich _did_ drop in and let us know that,” the receptionist said, nodding. “I’m guessing you’re his sub today?”

“His wife, Lyric, but yeah–I’m doubling as his sub since I’m still working on my teaching degree and this is so short-notice,” she chuckled.

Nodding, Mrs. Gentry got her set up for the Day, quick to ask if she needed a tour of the campus so she knew where she was going. Shooting her a smirk as she took her husband’s attendance roster, she finally revealed that she was actually one of the school’s alumna. Well, she didn’t tell her that she’d _actually_ graduated from Graham High, which was in the Town of Graham not far up the road from where they were. Even if a few things’d Changed, she still remembered the vast majority of the campus, especially the parts she was gonna be frequenting today.

Assured that she was good to go, the receptionist turned her loose so she could go get herself really and truly set up for the Day. Like many of the band directors who’d worked here before her–and even her older husband–she unlocked the band room doors and turned on the Lights. Despite having no Intention of sitting in there just yet, that didn’t mean she couldn’t let in the first few straggling students so they could hang out.

When the first bell rang to send the kids off so they weren’t late to their first class of the Day, Lyric gathered up what she was gonna need. She waited till the first half of the marching band was already in the band room and getting their instruments put together to bother exiting her husband’s office. If there was one thing about her that just about everyone always said, it was that she loved keeping folks on their toes–and that was ’cuz she really _did_ love doing just that.

_“Buongirono,_ ladies and gentlemen!” the young woman said, settling the scores for the songs they were working on and this class’ attendance roster on the director’s stand.

“What the–who’re you?” one of the guys in the back row asked.

“Yeah, where’s Mr. Dall?” the young man to his left added.

“Lemme answer those questions in reverse,” she chuckled as she settled on Bobby’s stool. “Mr. Dall’s taking a sick Day–poor guy woke up with a migraine so bad, he couldn’t even get outta bed, so noisy students and loud Music’re the last things he needs today.”

“Howddaya know that, though?” This was asked by one of the girls in the front row, who’d a flute resting across her lap.

“’Cuz I’m his wife, and I’d like to think I know my husband pretty well, whether we sleep in the same bed or separate ones,” Lyric laughed. “I’ll answer to Mrs. Dall, Mrs. K., or even Miss Lyric–but I _won’t_ answer to simply Lyric, or anything derogatory.”

_“Mrs. K.?”_ she asked, looking confused.

“Stands for _Kuykendall,”_ the young woman chuckled. “Usually such a mouthful for folks that we just shorten it to Dall and leave it at that.”

_“Now_ Mr. Dall saying that most folks couldn’t pronounce his surname, so he wasn’t gonna bother telling us what it was makes sense,” the young man seated next to her chuckled.

“I’m sure it does,” she agreed. “Now, to give y’all an idea of my personality… I’ma Southern Belle up one side and down the other, but I’m also a rebel–I’ma _do no harm, but take no crap_ kinda girl, too. Show me the Respect I’ve more than earned from halfway keeping a band of heathens in line, and I’ll treatcha like you’re the same age as me–act like you’re any of my kids’ ages, and I’ma treatcha like ya really _are_ that age. Fair enough?”

“Sounds pretty fair to me, ma’am.” This was said by one of the baritoneists in the back row, who was obviously a senior.

“None of that _ma’am_ crap,” Lyric laughed. “I toldja, I’ll even answer to Miss Lyric, ’cuz I’m still young enough that that makes me feel too much like an old woman for my age.”

The class cracked up, some almost dropping their instruments, which she waited out for a few moments before flipping open the attendance folder. After taking attendance and finding that only two students outta this particular class were absent, she waved up this Year’s drum major. Said young man–whose name was Nathan–nodded as he rose from his assigned seat against the side wall, knowing she wasn’t gonna be as familiar with what they were working on.

Lyric told him that he’d free reign to lead since that was one of the drum major’s duties within a marching band. If he needed any help with getting a few unruly students back under Control, she’d more than gladly let out her inner mommy, but she Intended to sit back and observe for now. She wasn’t about to say that she could catch on to a piece pretty quickly and be able to play it just by listening for a few minutes.

Nathan did exactly as he was supposed to, but she wasn’t surprised when the Woodwind section seemed to be having some trouble. Gently grabbing his shoulder, she made him lean down so he could actually hear her and told him to go grab one of the spare flutes from the storage room. That earned her a curiously confused look, which she answered with a sickeningly sweet, too-innocent smile. Shrugging, the young man did as she’d asked, quick to Return with the instrument she’d requested nestled within its case. A quick thanks was uttered as she unlocked the latches, the class watching her curiously as she put the flute together with ease.

“All right, maybe hearing it as it’s _supposed_ to be played’ll help our flute section,” the young woman chuckled.

“Wait, you’re gonna–” he started, his eyes widening in surprise.

“You’d be surprised by all the talents Hidden by this pretty face, young man,” Lyric laughed.

Without even bothering to warm up first, she raised the instrument in her hands and played the part that’d been stumping the flutists in front of her like she’d played it a million Times before. Every jaw in the room–even those of the Brass and percussion sections–dropped in surprise since their normal teacher wasn’t even that good. Sure, he’d at least attempt a part to give them a better idea, but they could tell he definitely didn’t have much experience with Brass and Woodwind instruments.

Grinning as she lowered the Silver tube into a resting position on her knee, the young woman said that this wasn’t her first Time playing such an instrument. They were all surprised when she admitted that she’d once been one of the kids in front of her, as it were, looking up at her own band directors and awaiting further instruction on what to do.

“But flute’s not the only thing I play,” Lyric chuckled. “It just makes the most sense for the moment.”

“Wow,” one of the flutists breathed, her eyes wide with Awe.

“How’dja manage to pick up on it that quick, though?” the girl next to her asked.

“’Cuz I’ve never played what’s on the page in front of me,” she admitted. “Yeah, I _can_ read Music, but I don’t count for squat–I play by ear, whether it’s flute, piano, guitar, or bass.”

“Holy crap,” one of the tuba players said. “That’s gotta take a _lotta_ practice.”

“Eh, depends on the song I’m trying to learn, not to mention if I’m into it or not,” the young woman admitted with a shrug. “Now, let’s try that part again from the top.”

Nodding, all the students holding a flute raised their instruments into a playing position, their torsos twisted so they wouldn’t hit the person next to them with the End of their instrument. She let Nathan lead them from the top of the section in question, her own flute rising back into a playing position. Making sure she didn’t play too loudly, she played alongside the girls and couple guys, giving them a reminder of how it was supposed to sound. This Time, they were able to get through the section without fuckin’ up so royally, which made her shoot them a proud smile.

During her lunch period, Lyric holed up in her husband’s office like he typically did so she could get a lil bit of Peace and quiet before what was _her_ third class. She’d already let Dave know when he’d come to check on her during second period that she was leaving after _third_ period since her husband didn’t have anymore classes after that. After all, she’d two elementary schoolersta pick up from school, and the elementary school let out earlier than the middle and high school.

Therefore, the young woman wasn’t expecting to hear a knock on the office door as she relaxed after finishing her lunch. Figuring it was prolly one of the nearby teachers, she roseta open it after laying the phone receiver back in its cradle. She’d felt the need to call home and check on Bobby, who was feeling a lil better, but still not well enough to come in and lead his final class of the Day.

“Well, well, well–look what the Cat dragged in,” she laughed when she opened said door and saw who stood there.

“Figured I’d come up and check on ya,” Richie chuckled as he stepped into the office and closed the door behind them. “I’m on my planning period, so it’s not like I couldn’t spare a few minutes.”

“Eh, nothing to really report,” the young woman told him. “Shocked a few kids by having the drum major grab me a spare flute during first period, but that’s really about it so far.”

“Of course, you’d shock Rob’s students like that,” he laughed.

“Ya know it, hon,” Lyric said with a cheeky grin.

“Ya manage to call and check on him yet?” the younger brunette asked once he’d Calmed down.

“Yeah, I just got off the phone with him when ya knocked,” she answered. “Says he’s feeling a lil better, but still not well enough to come in and teach.”

“Prolly means he’s at least up and mobile, but prolly no more than just to snack and feed the kids,” Richie mused, nodding.

“That’s usually the stage he’s at when he says something like that,” the young woman agreed.

He made to say something else, but got cut off by the bell ringing to signify the End of first lunch. “Well, I’ma get back down to my own school and outta your hair.”

“Hey, ya coming up here to check on me’s still appreciated,” Lyric chuckled, gently pulling him down to her level.

“Now, what kinda husband would I be, if I _didn’t_ since I know you’re not exactly in your element?” the younger brunette asked with a chuckle of his own as he met her halfway.

After sharing a quick kiss, she made to open her older husband’s office door so they could head out–him back to the middle school down the Hill and her into what was temporarily _her_ classroom. There were a few students who saw them, but both of them played it off as just being friends as they exited the small room. No one needed to know the Truth of their relationship, and besides, neither of them’d met a pair of Romantic partners that weren’t also friends yet.

The rest of her Day went relatively smoothly, the kids telling her that they were up to the early-seventies in Music history making her smirk. Bobby’d already said he was gonna get Richie in on his Music appreciation class once they got into the mid- and late-eighties, maybe even into the early-nineties, too. It just depended on how many Days he could take off, if they couldn’t quite cover everything he wanted to in one or two Days.

By the Time she was able to leave so she could go pick Zep and Aria up from school, Lyric was more than feeling both her husbands’ exhaustion. It was no Wonder they were always bushed when they finally got home from work, the older brunette especially on the Days when he’d after-school marching band practice. Or even on Friday Nights when he’d to attend the high school football games the marching band played at, not to mention the weekend competitions they often had. At least she wasn’t so tired she couldn’t drive across town to pick up her older kids without getting hurt, then _back_ across town to get them all home. There wasn’t a doubt in her mind that she’d be sleeping good tonight, and without needing a romp to help her get there, either.

Overall, it wasn’t that bad a Day for her, and Bobby was glad to hear it since he knew some of his students were troublemakers. He was just glad that she was home now, ’cuz all he wanted to do was go back to bed and not have to get up till his alarm went off again the next Morn. While he loved all the kids, Lachlan’d been fussy all Day, which was part of why he still hadn’t gotten rid of the migraine he’d woken with. If going to bed and staying there the entire Night helped him–well, he knew Richie’d gladly help her get the kids settled for the Night once he got home from work.


	4. Four

Roughly a month later, Lyric’d to fill in for her older husband only one other Time due to him waking up with a migraine. His students loved when she’d fill in for him, ’cuz she was a pretty lenient teacher compared to a lotta others, but at the same Time, she definitely proved herself to be a _take no shit_ kinda girl. She’d damn near let them get away with bloody murder, as long as it was all in good fun and jest, but let folks start swinging blows or something, and she’d jump right into the fray to break it up, if need be. Nathan’d actually called the office for the SRO and one of the principalsta come down and break up a fight one Morn, only for them to arrive and see her holding back a young man twice her size like he was her older son.

On the Moon’s Day exactly a week after her twenty-eighth birthday, the young woman’d to keep said older son, as well as her older daughter outta school for the Day. They’d a joint dental appointment at eight that Morn, and by the Time they got outta the dentist’s office, there was no point in making them go to school. After all, they’d already missed half the school Day since it was almost ten-thirty, and their school dismissed for the Day at two-thirty-five.

Since she was in a bit of a devious mood, she decided that they weren’t going straight home, but rather making a pit stop before they did. Bobby’d forgotten his lunch that Morn ’cuz he’d accidentally overslept, and she knew he’d just as soon go hungry as eat the school food served to the students. If he did that, he was gonna wind up being pretty mean by the Time his third-period class was dismissed, which’d give him Time to finally run across the street, if he really wanted to. Otherwise, he wasn’t gonna have a chanceta get food till dinner that Eve, which’d prolly mean being incredibly mean during marching band practice that afternoon.

“Well, good afternoon, Lyric!” Mrs. Gentry said when she walked into the office. “Aw, and who’re these cute lil munchkins?”

“This’d be my son and daughter, Zeppelin and Aria,” the young woman chuckled.

“They’re absolutely adorable,” she laughed. “Look just like a certain daddy, too.”

“Yeah, we jokingly wonder if he _actually_ reproduced, or figured out how to clone himself,” Lyric agreed with a laugh of her own. “And speaking of said daddy…”

“He’s gonna be going on his lunch break soon,” the receptionist told her.

“Oh, I know he is,” she retorted with a grin. “And since he was a dummy this Morn and forgot his lunch ’cuz he overslept…”

“Well, we can’t have Daddy going hungry, now can we?” Mrs. Gentry asked, looking down at the kids.

_“Nuuuu,”_ they giggled in unison.

“Daddy gets _meeeeaaaan_ when him gets too hungry,” Zep giggled.

“Hence why I figured I’d get lunch for all four of us and drop in to surprise him,” Lyric said. “These two’d a dental appointment this Morn, and between the two of ’em, we didn’t get outta there till about twenty minutes ago.”

“Well, let’s get y’all checked in as visitors, and I say we get the surprise underway,” she laughed. “His lunch doesn’t start for another half-hour or so, but it’s not like it’s every Day that you’re bringing the munchkins in to interrupt him.”

Laughing as she got them signed in, she requested that the receptionist _not_ call down to make sure Bobby was actually in the band room. She already knew that if he wasn’t there since he likely wouldn’t be in his office during an actual class period, he was most likely down on the practice field next to the tennis court. If _not_ giving him any advance warning helped surprise him, she was all for just opening the door and turning the kids looseta find him on their own.

Mrs. Gentry said that she normally wouldn’t do such a thing, but she was all for helping them surprise the young man. Even Dave Ebert was willing to let them get away with such a surprise this one Time when he passed through the main office and got to meet the kids. However, he warned their mother not to let this become a habit since even older students needed as much of their educational Day as they could get.

Turning to head toward the band room, Lyric assured him that she didn’t Intend to do any such thing again, considering she prolly wouldn’t have such a perfect opportunity. After all, it wasn’t like the kids’ dental appointments _always_ lined up so they were a week after her birthday, and just a couple before their daddy’s. She said they Intended to _really_ celebrate said birthdays later that weekend, but that didn’t mean they couldn’t do a lil something early since the Stars’d aligned perfectly, so to speak. Now that he knew her full reason for deciding to drop in with the kids, he was all for the surprise and chuckled as they headed off on their mission.

Bobby glanced down at his watch as Nathan–who’d double-stacked his classes so he’d get to work with _both_ halves of the marching band since he’d otherwise have a free period–cut off said band after a run through one of their songs. Like an idiot, he’d forgotten his lunch on the kitchen counter at home that Morn ’cuz he’d overslept, no thanksta choosing to stay up late for a romp the Night previous. He knew he was either gonna have to skip lunch altogether, or take his chances with running home long enough to get something, ’cuz he flat-out refused to eat school food since it was nasty.

This half of the marching band could tell he was starting to get antsy for something, and most of them figured it was prolly lunch. After all, with first lunch being in about fifteen minutes, they were all starting to get hungry in their own rights. It wouldn’t have been any surpriseta find out that their teacher was getting hungry, too, since he was just human and had needs of his own.

Hearing the band room door nearest his office open made him glance over to his right, but said door was hidden from view by a cinder block wall. But it was hearing a certain pair of devious giggles he recognized all too well that’d him bracing himself like a football player about to take off for a touchdown. Seconds later, he was glad he _did_ brace himself, or he’d have been knocked flat on his ass like he was a midget half his size by the shrieking, excited bundles he called his kids.

_“DADDY!”_ they shrieked happily as they barreled into him.

“Chu boogers!” Bobby laughed, wrapping his arms around them as he caught them and managed to stay on his feet. “Since when chu learn how to teleport?”

_“Nuuuu_ teleport, silleh Daddy!” Aria giggled as he straightened, her brother upside-down in his arms.

“Chu _didn’t?”_ he asked, feigning surprise that made his class laugh. “Den where’s teh Mama, huh? She gosta be here _somewhere.”_

“Mama hiding!” Zep giggled, squealing when he bounced him.

“Boy, since when chu face gets split down teh middle?” the older brunette chuckled, playfully spanking what he knew was his rump.

_“Nuuuu_ mah face, Daddy–dat’s mah rump!” he squealed, flailing slightly–which caused him to fart right in his own face.

“Chu-wee, boy–whas Mama been feeding chu?” Bobby laughed, playfully spanking him again before turning him right-side-up to set him back on his feet. “Gosta puts teh smellies back in there!”

“So, these’re the munchkins you’ve talked about at practice so much?” Nathan finally asked with a chuckle as he steadied his son through a mild head-rush.

“Yeah–my son, Zeppelin, and daughter, Aria,” he answered, turning them to face his class. “Say _Hi_ to Mr. Nathan and the rest of the class.”

Both kids were relatively exuberant about doing just that, although his daughter was a hair more shy than her brother was like she’d always been. The rest of the class couldn’t help more laughter of their own as he hefted her up onto his hip, the scene made all the more adorable when she stuck her thumb in her mouth and started playing with his braid using her free hand. At the same Time, he glanced back over toward the door they’d come in through, finally spotting his wife carrying what looked like a bag containing enough food for all four of them.

Lyric grinned as she leaned back against the half-wall that hid the stairs leading to that door from his view, telling him that he could be hungry enough to eat his own foot, and he still wouldn’t get fed till his actual lunch period. She wasn’t about to let him eat in front of his students when lunch was only about ten minutes away at this point, ’cuz he could damn well wait those few minutes.

Chuckling since he knew how stern his wife could be when she felt like it, he turned the class back over to Nathan since they still had about five more minutes of playing they could get in before it was Time to pack up. Aria insisted on staying on his hip, the lil Sprite managing to undo his braid and pull his hair loose before he could stop her. That just made his class snicker since they hadn’t started playing yet, mostly ’cuz Dave chose that moment to walk in to see if he’d gotten his surprise yet. Naturally, he was a bit perturbed at seeing his hair unbound in the middle of his workday, to which he just shrugged. Kids were gonna be kids, and this one wasn’t used to seeing him with his hair tied back unless it was exceptionally hot out.

Once his students started packing up, Bobby assured him that he’d get his wife to rebraid his hair for him before she left, ’cuz he knew she kept a spare hairbrush in her truck. He explained that the kids were used to seeing him with it unbound, so he’d no doubt looked a lil funny to his baby girl. Not only that, but they’d cuddled it like it was a teddy bear since they were infants, and if it kept her quiet for the last few minutes of his class before lunch, he was willing to break a rule for a few minutes.

“As long as it’s tied back again before your next class,” Dave acquiesced.

“Oh, I’ll make sure it is, Mr. Ebert,” Lyric chuckled, refusing to call him Dave in front of her kids. “He can’t braid hair–or anything else, for that matter–without it unraveling.”

“And my hair’s a pain in the butt since it’s Naturally wavy to start with,” the older brunette agreed. “Makes it even harder to do anything with, if I don’t use a curling iron to straighten it first.”

“Ya can do that?” one of the flutists asked as she packed up her instrument.

“Eighties hair styling trick,” he laughed. “It’s possible, but it’s a pain to actually do–you’re better off not bothering, if ya don’t have a steady-handed wife like mine or another friend who can do it without burning ya.”

“I gotta say, your hair’s longer than I thought it was, Mr. Dall,” Nathan chuckled, shooting a pointed look to where it fell to his nipples–which were hidden under his shirt.

“Been this long–jeez, easily for a decade,” Bobby said. “Couldn’t really _tell_ how long it was back then, though, ’cuz–well, Aqua Net was huge.”

“I can see why you’d tie it back, whether Mr. Ebert wantedja to or not,” one of the tuba players said as he packed up the sousaphone he’d been using. “It _looks_ thick and heavy, even from back here.”

“I don’t doubt that’s part of the reason I get migraines, but I refuseta let my wife cut it more than a few inches,” the older brunette retorted. “I’ve had hair down to at least my shoulders since I was barely older than Zep, so it’d prolly look funny, if I cropped it short.”

It was only a couple more minutes before the bell was ringing to dismiss the class to either their lunch period or their next class. That finally freed him up so he could enjoy his own lunch, which he decided to do in the band room since his office wasn’t big enough for half his family at once. Since he’d first lunch, as well, the drum major decided he wanted to stick around and join them, as long as he was all right with that. At least he’d get a lil more Peace and quiet than he’d get, if he headed across campusta the café since he always brought his own lunch.

Bobby was more than cool with the senior sticking around, as was his wife since she’d wound up befriending him over the few Times she’d subbed for him. The kids seemed excited that another student more than twice their age actually wanted to hang out with them, ’cuz they weren’t used to that. After all, they were used to having their classmates and younger siblings as the only ones their age around on a consistent basis.

“So, whaddachu wanna do when chu grow up?” Nathan asked, said kiddos reveling in the attention they were getting from him.

“Wantsta play Music likey Daddy used to!” the lil boy answered enthusiastically. “And Daddy Richie, too!”

“Daddy Richie?” He seemed confused by that, making the older brunette sigh and his wife face-palm.

“Chu boogers were ’posed to keeps quiet ’bout dat,” Lyric grumbled.

“Oopsie–sorry, Mama,” he said, his face turning pink.

“I’d suggest keeping your mouth shut, if ya like having us as teachers as much as ya seem to,” the older brunette said, looking his student in the eye.

“Um, okay,” he agreed. “Not too sure what that’s supposed to mean, but I get the feeling I’m about to find out.”

“Well, you’re one of those who’s recognized me as the former bassist of Poison,” Bobby told him. “And the Truth’s really that Richie never had an affair with my wife.”

“Then why was he accused of such a thing?” the teenager asked. “’Cuz that’s never made any sense.”

“He was accused of it ’cuz I willingly share Lyric with him as a Romantic partner,” he answered.

“Think the polygamist marriages Mormons do, just without anyone being legally married,” said wife explained. “It’s all consensual, we’re all friends and know about it, and all Communication except that about intimate things stays open.”

“The only thing I wanna know about their intimate Life’s if she’s pregnant or not,” the older brunette chuckled. “Or when certain parts of female biology’s gonna get in the way of the Intimacy between she and I, hint hint.”

“Same appliesta Richie, too,” Lyric agreed. “He’s actually the one who told me not to even compare whether they both like having their ears nibbled or not, let alone anything raunchier than that.”

“Well, I’m not one to judge what y’all do in your own house,” Nathan said. “But I can see _why_ ya wanna keep it on the down-low, all the same.”

“Exactly–the World’s known she was with me all along, so it makes senseta keep saying _I’m_ her husband, not both of us,” Bobby told him. “Nobody outside a select group–which you’re now part of–needsta know that Richie’s her second husband, and that _he’s_ the father of her two younger kids, not me.”

The teenager couldn’t help turning a surprised look on her, which made her laugh after swallowing what she’d been chewing. Lyric made no bones about having taken on raising Zep as an infant ’cuz his biological mother’d been stripped of her parental rights before she could even meet him, and that not stopping her from having three biological boogers of her own. She didn’t treat the boy any differently just ’cuz he wasn’t her flesh and blood like he wasta her older husband–she loved the lil booger as much as she loved his siblings.

He swore he’d keep his mouth shut about their relationship dynamic, if only ’cuz he knew that most folks in the area wouldn’t be nearly as accepting as he was about it. While he didn’t necessarily agree with it, he knew it wasn’t exactly his choice, and they shouldn’t have to spend the rest of their Lives paying for it just ’cuz he didn’t agree. It was their choice whether the young woman was with two guys at once–whether that was for a literal threesome, or just maintaining separate relationships simultaneously–or not. No one else should get any say in the matter, ’cuz it wasn’t like they were a part of the intimate goings-on between them or anything.

Bobby couldn’t help heaving a sigh of relief as he slumped backward till he was sprawled out on his back, his hair forming a messy brown halo around his head. As far as he was concerned, he’d already lost one job over his Romantic choices, given how Bret’d reacted and fired the younger brunette without even trying to find all the pieces of the puzzle. He _really_ didn’t wanna lose a second job over it simply ’cuz some higher-up within the school system found out and considered him a bad role model for his students.

Nathan shot him a bemused look when he sat up again, saying that he, personally wouldn’t consider him a bad role model in the slightest. If anything, he’d consider him one of the _best_ role models, given what he’d done for a living before coming here as the new band director. After all, he’d reportedly been a pretty heavy drinker just a few Years ago, and had no doubt gotten into his fair share of other trouble. Yet, here he was–sober, able to hold down a steady job, and raising a relatively well-adjusted family, all those other things considered. He couldn’t think of anyone besides maybe his own parents who set a better example for the kids in their care on a daily basis. Gods only knew he coulda been doing far worse, like coming to work drunk or high like he essentially did when going onstage with his former band.

The older brunette laughed as he wrapped an arm around his wife’s shoulders, laying all the credit on him _not_ doing such a thing on her. He made no bones that it was Lyric basically throwing his own Past back in his face the very Day his son was born that’d made him into the man he was today. After all, she’d let him in on her own lil Secret that allowed her to deal with some pretty hard shit in Life without becoming a drunken addict. It was using those same tactics that’d seen him get sober, despite the last couple albums his band had worked on–including one that’d been shelved–before he’d ultimately quit. Without this woman and his family, he knew he wouldn’t have it nearly good enough to be teaching others, even if it _was_ his _fuck-you job_.


	5. Five

The Saturn’s Day following his surprise lunch visit from his family, Bobby woke up a bit late once again, and it was due to yet another romp. But even though he was running a few minutes late, that didn’t mean the marching band couldn’t start practice for their upcoming competition while he was getting himself ready. He knew they’d most likely see him coming since they always gathered in the bus parking lot before everyone headed to the practice field–or even the actual field, if the football team wasn’t using it.

Just as he’d suspected, they were waiting for him to arrive in the bus parking lot like they always did, thinking they were gonna see him pull in in his car, if he didn’t come outta the school. A grin stretched his face as he ran across his field of a back yard, Richie hot on his heels since he was gonna be helping him today. The middle schoolers were gonna be part of this Year’s Christmas parade in about a month, so he needed to be taught how to march so he could teach his students. Said students were surprised to see two men with braids jog up to the ditch, then pause just long enough to check for traffic before crossing the road.

“Sorry we’re running a few minutes late, guys,” the older brunette chuckled, just barely outta breath.

“Damn, long jog?” the baritoneist who’d once called his wife _ma’am_ –Johnny–asked with a chuckle of his own.

“Eh, not as long as it coulda been,” he answered. “We picked these schoolsta apply for jobs at since we live right across the street.”

“Wait, that’s _your_ house?” one of the clarinetists asked, his eyes widening in surprise.

_“Mmm hmm.”_ Bobby couldn’t help a proud grin. “Don’t ever let anyone tell ya busting your hump for whatcha want in Life won’t eventually pay off, ’cuz we’re living proof that that’s a lie.”

The entire group burst into laughter, which they waited out.

“Now, for anyone who _hasn’t_ figured it out–this is an old friend of mine, Mr. Richie Kotzen,” he said.

“Just stick with Rich unless another teacher or an administrator shows up for some reason,” the younger brunette chuckled.

“I didn’t think y’all were still friends after what happened a few Years ago,” one of the trumpeters mused.

“We’ve our reasons for still being friends, but that’s not why we’re here today,” he responded.

“Richie’s gonna be helping out today so he can learn a few things,” the older brunette explained.

“The middle school’s gonna be participating in the Christmas parade next month, too–but I’ve yet to learn how to march like y’all do, which means I can’t teach _them_ yet,” Richie said.

_“Ahhhh.”_ The entire marching band nodded as they got it.

“That being said, I’ma be more of an observer than not, but I’ll still help out when and where I can,” he told them.

Nodding again, they turned to head up the Hill that ran between the building where the band room was and the tennis court right outside it. Directly across from a handful of parking spots one wouldn’t know about unless they made a habit of coming onto the back side of campus was their lil practice field. Everybody started putting together their instruments, Bobby taking those with bigger instruments or who were part of the pit inside to get theirs.

The younger brunette was at least able to help Nathan get those who remained outside warmed up while they were waiting on the othersta Return. It wasn’t a very long wait, and he certainly jumped in to help move things like the Bells down to the edge of the practice field. All the students seemed a bit surprised by his willingnessta help out, which just made him chuckle since he hadn’t been kidding about that.

He and the older brunette stood back as they let the drum major lead like he almost always did, their sunglasses pulled down so they could see clearly. Bobby pointed out how they rolled their steps from almost on their Achilles’ tendonsta near the balls of their feet as they moved. That was what even the middle schoolers were gonna have to learn to be able to participate in the Christmas parade–how to roll their steps while keeping their legs together, rather than slightly spread like a normal walking gait. It was relatively easy, but it still took a bit of practiceta be able to damn near do it in their sleep like this group of students could. The sooner he got them out on Woodlawn’s practice field and started working with them, the sooner they’d get it down.

When the kids all took a break to get some Water, Bobby whistled to catch their attention so he could make an announcement no doubt to make them perk up a bit more. It was something that’d been discussed over the course of the week when he was at home, and he’d even been half-threatened just this Morn over it. Still, that didn’t stop the grin that split his face as the marching band turned their attention solely onto him, the man at his side unable to help a chuckle.

“All right, guys–just to get y’all to perk up a lil more,” he chuckled. “I’ve been half-threatened by the missus, and I’d rather not get my butt busted like I’m our son’s age.”

Everybody at least chuckled, if not outright laughed, depending on whether they’d just taken a sip of their Water or not.

“Part of why Richie and I were late’s ’cuz we were helping with some last-minute birthday party setup,” the older brunette said.

“Whose birthday is it?” one of the flutists asked curiously.

“Technically, no one’s,” Bobby laughed. “But my wife’s was almost two weeks ago, and mine’s coming up soon.”

“Well, happy early birthday!” Johnny chuckled.

“Many thanks,” he said. “That being said, the missus has told me I’d better hope I can run across the back yard faster than she can, or I’ma get beaned with a skillet, if I don’t extend an invitation to our joint birthday party this afternoon.”

Even Richie laughed at the mental image of this half-gangly man trying to outrun their skillet-wielding, fun-sized wife.

“Hey, if it’s right across the street, I doubt many of the parents’ll mind,” one of the tromboneists chuckled.

“We’d prolly be better off hanging out in the bus parking lot long enough for said parentsta show up so we can ask about it, though,” one of the bass drummers admitted.

“I kinda figured,” he agreed. “After all, I wouldn’t wanna show up to pick one of _my_ kids up from practice, only to find out they weren’t where they were supposed to be–even if they were just across the street with their teacher.”

“It definitely gives us something to look forward to, though,” one of the tuba players mused.

Neither band director was surprised that pretty much the entire marching band agreed with that assessment, which just made them smirk at each other. They also weren’t surprised by how much better they played once they killed their break in favor of getting back to it. After all, they often practiced and performed better when they’d something fun to look forward to, so they didn’t see any reason why it’d be any different for this group of kids.

Once practice’d been concluded and all the big instruments taken back in to be stored in the band room again, the group moved down to the bus parking lot like they normally did to await pickup by parents. There were already a few parents waiting, and they were a bit surprised by how excited their kids were when they ran up to their cars.

All of them agreed to letting their kids join in on the birthday celebration once they were told their band director lived literally across the street. In fact, glancing over at the property revealed Lyric waiting across the ditch so she could help keep an eye out for any traffic as any last-minute attendees crossed. Once the kids’d obtained permission, Bobby sent them on over to cross the road, all of them stopping to check for traffic like they’d been taught to as youngsters. The fact that his shared wife held up her hand to them to double-check for herself, their own kids waiting on the other side of the fence, gave their parents a lil more Faith and Trust in the group of adults that’d be supervising their kids.

Granted, some of the kids’d other things they were supposed to be doing after practice, so only about half the marching band got to join them. Still, it was a pretty decent crowd for a birthday party, considering that they’d bodies all over the place in the back yard. Many were floating in the lazy River, chilling in the pool, or taking turns jumping off the roof of the Cave once they found the hidden trampoline that served as a diving board so such a piece of equipment wouldn’t ruin the Tropical Paradise aesthetic. It seemed that everyone was having fun, especially once the Music got turned up so they could have a dance-off with each other.

“What the–” Bobby glanced over at the driveway when he heard a short blast of a siren over said Music. “Great–this is just what we needed.”

“Might as well go take care of it,” the young woman sighed. “Ya got everything under Control here, Rich?”

“Go on,” he answered, nodding. “I think everyone’s figured out we’re sticklers on safety here.”

Returning the nod, Lyric turned to head to the driveway with her older husband at her side.

“How can we help y’all, deputies?” he asked, taking in the brown uniforms the pair were wearing.

“Got a few noise complaints, sir,” the female deputy answered.

The older brunette started to explain what was going on when he realized his wife’d stiffened like deck lumber next to him. “Sweetheart, ya all right?”

“Get _her off_ my property,” she growled, staring at said female deputy. “I’ve absolutely _nothing_ to say to her, not even by way of explaining _why_ they’d be getting noise complaints.”

“Ma’am, I’m afraid I can’t do that,” her partner said.

“Then come back with a different partner,” Lyric snapped. “I’m not explaining shit to the woman that abused me my entire Life before she threw me out when I was twenty-two, whether she’s just doing her job or not.”

Even her husband’s jaw dropped before he managed to collect himself. “Sir, with all due Respect, just do as she asks. Shit’s gonna get _really_ ugly with a quickness, if ya don’t, and I don’t think any of us wantcha to have a reason to arrest her–especially in front of a bunch of teenagers and other children.”

The male deputy looked like he wanted to argue the point, especially as Richie slowly approached, his hands held up to show he wasn’t a threat.

“I said get her off my property, damn it!” the young woman snarled, both her men grabbing her as she tensed even more.

“Sir, I dunno what’s going on here, but do as she asks,” the younger brunette said as it took both of them to keep her from lunging. “Otherwise, we’re gonna wind up with a bunch of teenagers having to help us hold her back!”

Clearly seeing that things were just gonna continue going South, he finally dragged his partner back to their patrol car to call for a Sergeant or something. Johnny and a couple other guys ran up, and it took every single one of the men who grabbed her to keep Lyric from charging that car like an enraged, stampeding Bull. But it wasn’t necessarily Rage driving her, although that was certainly a big part of it–she was also been driven by decades of pain that was making the victim in her wanna fight back at last.

It wasn’t long before a couple other cars roared up into the driveway, Bobby and Richie holding their shared wife back while the young men who’d been helping them formed a perimeter that woulda been almost impossible for her to get through without _someone_ grabbing her. They didn’t wanna see one of their favorite teachers get herself in trouble, considering how strong-Willed and hard-headed she could be sometimes. But things certainly weren’t helped when the female deputy yelled from her patrol car that she’d raised her with more Control than that and to _not_ be a band-whore. She was clearly taking a crack at her relationship with the older brunette, which was the only one that was public Knowledge, but it still set her off all the same.

What could only be called a Banshee’s screech ripped outta Lyric’s throat as she tried to shake off both husbands, the group of young men surrounding them having to renew their hold on her, too. The Sergeant that’d gotten called out roared that somebody’d better get the female deputy outta here, or she was gonna get charged with something. He wasn’t too sure exactly what he’d charge her with, but he’d come up with something all the same, most likely provoking Violence where there didn’t need to be any by not keeping her mouth shut when she shoulda.

“Well, _that_ damn sure wasn’t how I was expecting a birthday part–joint or otherwise–to End.”

All the young men who’d to struggle alongside both band directorsta hold the young woman back from attacking the female deputy nodded their agreement. Johnny certainly had a point, ’cuz they’d been expecting to join in on the festivities and have a good Time, sans drugs and booze. But a busybody neighbor who just couldn’t keep their nose outta where it didn’t belong’d ruined that by calling the cops and setting this into motion.

“We gotta thank y’all again, though,” Bobby said. “As y’all found out the hard way, it takes an entire group to hold her back once somebody sets her off the right way.”

“No shit,” one of the tuba players–Joey–groaned. “My ribs _still_ hurt from where she accidentally elbowed me.”

“Sorry, Joey,” she said. “I can’t help how I act when I’m triggered.”

“Hon, I don’t think any of us can,” Richie sighed. “What I wanna know– _why’d_ she trigger ya that violently?”

The young woman bit her lip before finally letting out a sigh of her own. “That was my _mother.”_

His eyes widened as everything suddenly clicked for him, and he couldn’t resist grabbing her for a hug.

“The basic gist of it,” Bobby said, grabbing the remaining teenagers’ attention when they looked curious. “Her mother was abusive in various ways growing up, and she thought it Ended after the bitch threw her out a few months before she met me.”

“Dear God,” the other tuba player–Anthony–breathed. “Seeing her woulda been like lighting a campfire, so to speak–her goading her like that woulda just been throwing gas on that Fire.”

“Exactly,” the older brunette agreed with a nod. “Which’s no doubt why Richie started approaching us, even though he’s well aware you’re not supposed to do such a thing unless ya wanna take your chances with Death-by-cop.”

“I’d rather possibly get shot trying to stop her than to see her get herself in trouble,” he said, glancing up from where he’d buried his nose in her hair. “She means too much to me.”

“I know the feeling, man,” Bobby sighed, not surprised by the further curious looks they got.

Not wanting to deal with anymore drama and bullshit today, he swore the remaining teenagersta Secrecy just like he’d done with Nathan before explaining their relationship dynamic. It certainly explained why the younger brunette lived in the same house as the couple, which they’d all been wondering about. Still, they all agreed that while it certainly explained the ultimate demise of Poison, no one else really needed to know what went on between them. As far as they were concerned, it was an Honor to know about it themselves, and they were Intent on acting like they knew nothing about what they’d been entrusted with.

By the Time parents started arriving back at the school to pick up younger students who couldn’t drive and weren’t riding home with some of the older ones who could, Lyric was relatively settled again. She’d been told that there was gonna be an investigation into her mother that’d go back to her very childhood. Doubtless she’d be contacted for her statement in the near Future, especially if it turned out that charges _were_ being pressed.

With the house cleared out so that it was just the Romantically-involved trio and their quartet of kids, everything settled down. There was finally Peace and quiet after a Saturn’s Day that’d started way too early for all of them and had certainly gotten more lively than any of them’d been expecting. It’d still take a while for said adultsta truly relax enough to go to bed, but that wasn’t exactly a surpriseta anyone. What _was_ a surprise, though, was Richie inviting his older equivalent to join him and their wife in his room that Night. Even though it was supposed to be his Night with her, he could already tell she prolly wasn’t gonna be up for a romp and could most definitely use the Comfort of both husbands right now.

After thinking it over for a few minutes, Bobby suggested just moving their lil powwow into the master suite for a couple different reasons. First of all, he’d a bigger bed that all three of them’d fit in better without having to worry about anyone possibly getting kicked out quite literally. Secondly, Lachlan was already asleep in his crib in the lil mini nursery, which’d mean not having to move the lil guy. It took only a few moments’ Thought before he was agreeing, which wound up leaving Lyric snuggled between her menfolk that Night.


	6. Six

Over the next week or so, the Dall-Kotzen family didn’t really hear much outta the cops as far as the investigation into Lyric’s mother went. They weren’t exactly surprised by that, considering that they knew it was gonna take far more than a mere week to do such a thing. Hell, it was no doubt to take several months, maybe even a Year or more for such a thing to happen, never mind reach the point that the bitch could very well be taken to trial for her past actions.

A mere six Days after the joint birthday party that’d Ended of a bit of a sour note, though, they got a surprise of the pleasant variety. Rikki’d decided to come out East to surprise the older brunette for his birthday, knowing he enjoyed celebrating with his friends and family more than he’d ever say. Considering that his birthday was two Days after he’d Intended to arrive, he knew it was gonna be that much more special for him.

Since the blonde hadn’t planned on leaving till Moon’s Day afternoon or Týr’s Day Morn, he wound up getting roped into a bit of work. Bobby’d planned on diving into the history of Music starting with the mid-eighties when he went back to work the Morn after his birthday. His younger equivalent was already on board with helping him by being a guest speaker, the middle school having already booked his sub for at least that Day. With one of his other friends who’d lived through that era in town, he couldn’t help but wanna get even _him_ in on the Day’s lesson since he could provide yet another perspective.

“Morn, Regina,” the older brunette said as he walked into the main office.

“Morn, Rob,” Mrs. Gentry chuckled. “Ya manage to have a good weekend?”

“Better than I’d been expecting, actually,” he answered. “My buddy, here decided to blow into town for my birthday yesterday, so that was definitely a bit of a surprise.”

“Well, happy belated birthday,” the receptionist told him. “I’m guessing you’ve a reason for bringing him with ya today?”

“Yeah, actually.” Bobby nodded. “Rikki’s one of my former band mates, from before I even bothered trying to get my degree.”

“A pleasure, ma’am,” the drummer said, nodding to her.

“He was one of my _partners-in-crime,_ if ya will, through the eighties,” he continued. “Since I’m getting into when our band _really_ took off in my Music appreciation class…”

_“Ahhhh,_ I gotcha.” Mrs. Gentry nodded as it clicked. “Let’s getcha signed in, then I’ll leave whether ya hide in his office for first and second period between y’all.”

The older brunette simply smirked as Rikki got himself signed in as a visitor, his visitor’s sticker getting stuck in his pocket for now. Once he was told that not everybody’d recognized his friend from his prior job, he decided to try laying as low as he possibly could, himself. If anyone happened to recognize him, that was fine, but he didn’t exactly wanna advertise it, if he could help it.

In the band room, the drummer couldn’t help wanting to take a look around while he was putting his stuff in his office. This was one Morn when the band room doors remained locked, which he knew the kids that hung out in here before school were gonna find weird. Course, it was technically _his_ classroom–he could choose whether to let kids hang out in here or not depending on his mood at any Time. However, he’d a totally different reason for denying entry this Morn, and it was definitely related to having his friend with him.

Just to avoid eating up more Time than necessary later, Bobby started breaking down the drum kit that was usually used only during jazz band Season. As the pair were moving the pieces so they could be set up however the blonde wanted them, he explained how he Intended to open his third-period class. Richie was gonna be joining them a few minutes after second period Ended, which’d give them Time to scarf down lunch before warming up a bit. He figured it’d be funny to open the class by playing a song from their final released album called _Ride Child Ride_ as the kids were walking in. That meant that even Lyric was gonna join them, but she wasn’t showing up till the younger brunette did since he’d brought their gear in his car for them.

Nodding, Rikki said that’d definitely be a Creative way to open one of his classes, which prolly no other band director in this school’s history’d done. It’d also give them a bit of a flashback to the good ol’ Days, before even CC’s problems’d torn the band to shreds the first Time. And if they were honest with themselves, that was pretty much what they needed, if they were gonna be getting into the Music of the mid-to-late-eighties today. They couldn’t possibly take their minds back to that Time period any better than playing one of their old band’s songs, whether it was for the class or for something else.

“Feel free to hide in my office till then, though, if ya wanna,” the brunette chuckled.

“Eh, I don’t think I can stand almost three hours in a closet,” he laughed. “Not without pulling my hair out or otherwise causing trouble, that is.”

“You’re gonna look pretty funny with no hair, Rockett,” Bobby told him. “Andja can’t be causing trouble, or ya might get me fired.”

“As if ya haven’t been fired from a job before,” the blonde snickered.

“Not ’cuz my friends were being idiots, though!” he retorted as the first bell of the Day rang.

“Relax, dude–I’m not gonna cause any trouble,” Rikki swore. “I’ma sit right here and behave myself, hard as that usually is for a drummer.”

The brunette smirked and rolled his eyes as he stole one of the spare chairs and settled a few feet from the one kept against the front wall for Nathan. “Ya _better_ behave, or I’ma shove your head into a sousaphone.”

“Dunno what the hell that is, but I can think of better holesta shove a different head,” he told him.

“Hey, zip it!” Bobby laughed as the first students walked in. “Best behavior, jerk, remember?”

The blonde simply shot him a cheeky grin, which made him hold a hand behind his back to flip him off. “That goes for _you,_ too, dude.”

All he did was roll his eyes again as those couple students settled in their seats, their cases promptly settled in their laps as they did. The rest of the class’d five minutes before the warning bell rang, and after that, they’d a mere minute to get in class or risk being tardy. But while he was waiting for the rest of this class period’s students, he finished getting himself set up while flipping his friend off behind his back once again.

With this half of the marching band settled in their seats with their instruments–or _next_ to their instruments, for the percussionists–Bobby got into his typical groove as band director. He pretended nothing was amiss, seemingly forgetting the blonde was right behind him–till one of the guys in the back realized who was sitting a few feet from their drum major. Said drum major’d already figured out what their teacher was doing and had been playing along, even though he’d recognized the man as soon as he walked in and headed down to the front of the room to take his seat.

“Oh, him? Ah, he’s just a harmless gnat,” the brunette chuckled, playfully dismissing his friend’s presence.

“I’ll show ya _harmless gnat_ come third period, Dall,” Rikki laughed.

“Behave,” he warned him with a half-dirty look. “Otherwise, I’m turning Lyric loose on ya.”

The blonde mocked a horrified look, which’d his class cracking up. _“Nuuuu_ –she scares me, even now.”

“As well she should,” he retorted. “And so should I, considering what I once did to you and a couple other blondes we know.”

“Do we even wanna know, Mr. Dall?” Johnny asked with a chuckle.

“Let’s just say the missus and I gave him and a couple others a whole new definition for the term _headbanging_ and leave it at that,” Bobby chuckled. “We’ve a competition to practice for, after all.”

“Then let’s get to it, or you’re gonna have three Music appreciation classes today!” Joey laughed.

“Oh, Gods–the horror!” the brunette cackled. “I don’t think I can handle reliving the eighties thrice in a single Day!”

Not even Nathan was immune to a bout of raucous laughter before they managed to get themselves under Control again.

Rikki simply sat back and observed as said drum major took over and led the class, his friend stepping back to observe, as well. He could definitely see why he’d decided to go back to school and get his teaching degree now, ’cuz it was pretty clear that he enjoyed what he did for a living these Days. Maybe it wasn’t the kinda thing he’d wanna do for himself, but if the brunette half of his former band did and enjoyed it–well, more Power to them.

The first two class periods passed by relatively quickly–or so it seemed, that is–and before they knew it, the door nearest Bobby’s office was opening. Just as they’d planned, the younger brunette let himself in, quietly joining his former band mates at the front of the room where they watched Nathan lead the second half of the marching band. He simply nodded to acknowledge their presence, knowing they wouldn’t get set up for their planned opening to third period till right before the students started packing up. After all, that’d give them just enough to get set up, then _warm_ up a bit so they could actually play the song they’d in mind.

About ten minutes before class was supposed to End, the older brunette headed into his office so he could start grabbing their gear. Richie was hot on his heels so he could help him, the blonde pulling his sticks outta his back pocket so he could start warming up. The students watched in Curiosity as the brunettes set up their amps, all of them surprised when they unpacked two guitars and a bass.

However, many were surprised when the younger brunette slung his strap over his shoulder and started shredding like he still did it every Day. Then again, those who were surprised were the ones who hadn’t recognized him for who he was, even after he was introduced. If they hadn’t recognized his name, they hadn’t realized just how talented he really was–which, in many ways, outdid even CC. No one was saying that the blonde Cracker Jack of a guitarist wasn’t talented–he just didn’t have the same talent that his successor did.

“All right, Rik–count us in,” Bobby said as the first-lunch dismissal bell rang, his own strap slung over his shoulder now.

Nodding, the blonde cast a glance at his friends’ wife, who nodded to signify that she, too was ready, which earned her a Return nod. Counting them in, he hit his cymbals at the same moment the older brunette charged outta the gate with his bouncing bass riff. Richie held his instrument at the ready as the young woman picked out the rhythm riff, his own riff not coming in till about sixteen seconds into the song.

The first couple kids walked in just as he started shredding, taking them by surprise enough that they stopped dead in their tracks. Even Rikki couldn’t help a laugh as he and the older brunette easily kept tempo together, just like they’d once done in the good ol’ Days. Luckily, the kids managed to gather enough of their witsta get outta the way of other students coming in behind them. All their jaws were on the ground as they took their seats, but that was about to be doubly true for a couple different reasons once the lyrics kicked in after about thirty-four seconds.

_“Well, I’m a-sittin’ here this Evenin’_ – _I got some old friends on my mind, yeah, I do…”_ Bobby sang. He didn’t normally sing lead, but his voice was deepest since–while she could mimic Bret on most Poison songs–his wife’s shot up too high on this song.

The kids’ jaws all dropped even lower, none of them having thought their teacher could actually play any instruments, let alone carry a tune in a bucket when it came to vocals.

_“Yeah, me and Slick and Davy, salutin’ Mr. Daniels for the very first Time,”_ he continued.

_“We was a-jammin’ to ol’ Jimi, singin’_ Purple Haze– _no Doubt,”_ Lyric and Richie sang as they joined him for the latter’s old backing line.

_“Mmm, no, no… I think between the weed and whiskey, my head went North, and man, my feet went South,”_ the older brunette continued by himself.

The other pair of brunettes joined him at strategic moments for the bridge, all of them wearing identical grins as even a couple teachers peeked in to see what on Earth was going on.

_“We had some good Times_ – _and man, do I remember them well… Those Days’re long gone_ – _but now, I gotta tell ya just how we left some storiesta tell!”_

Bobby managed to reach up long enough to undo his braid, completely uncaring of protocol as he really got into his old groove.

_“Ride, child, ride_ – _hell, we had some good Times then! Ride, child, ride_ – _sometimes, I need those Times again… Do you remember when?”_ the entire group sang in unison.

Even Mrs. Gentry and all four administrators were drawn from the main office by all the noise, and they were surprised to see their band director playing as if he were still part of a full band. They’d all thought he could only play clarinet, which was what he’d listed on his job application and–as of more recent Times– _was_ true. He hadn’t said a word about being able to play various other instruments, and definitely not this well, nor about being able to sing either.

_“Remember all our big talk, how we were gonna be president one Day, babe?”_ the older brunette sang.

_“We were gonna save the whole World, but man, I gotta tell ya, Lord_ – _”_ Lyric and Richie sang alongside him.

_“_ – _didn’t have a clue back then, no,”_ he continued by himself before they launched into the bridge again.

During a few short measures of rest, Bobby reached out and snagged the elastic band securing the End of the younger brunette’s braid. He knew damn good and well from the few short Years they’d played together professionally and the several they’d played together since how he was when he started soloing all over himself. There wasn’t a doubt in his mind that his hair was gonna fly more than his own as he really got into his playing, ’cuz it seemed his entire body moved in rhythm with whatever he was playing. It was never just his hands that went crazy–his back’d arch, his toes’d curl, and he’d throw his head in just about every Direction known to man and then some.

Rikki wore a grin as much as Lyric and the older brunette as he proved them right on something they hadn’t even said aloud. This particular solo was shorter than a few others he’d done on the lone album he was a part of, but he still got into it all the same. He wouldn’t quite call the look on his face an _orgasm face,_ but it was definitely pretty close, even as he rounded out that short solo.

_“We had some good Times_ – _and man, do I remember them well… Those Days’re long gone_ – _but now, I gotta tell ya just how we left some storiesta tell!”_

Even said younger brunette couldn’t help his grin as they worked through the bridge for the third Time before diving into the chorus again. It wasn’t quite the same as those couple Years he’d spent in one of the World’s biggest, most notorious bands, but it was good enough for him. To be quite honest, he preferred getting to play when he felt like it, not when he was told to get out on a stage to shut up a screaming crowd. Relaxed and fun was more his style than it wasn’t, and besides, he hadn’t exactly enjoyed playing the vast majority of Poison’s songs from before his tenure in the band.

_“Ride, child, ride_ – _hell, we had some good Times then! Ride, child, ride_ – _sometimes, I need those Times again… Ride, child, ride_ – _hell, we had some good Times then! Ride, child, ride_ – _take me back there! Man, do you remember when?”_


	7. Seven

Bobby couldn’t help a laugh any more than the drummer and his younger equivalent could help an excited hoot as they muted their strings and stilled cymbals once they’d rounded out the song. The applause from his Music appreciation class was almost immediate, the adults gathered at the back of the room taking a few more momentsta start clapping along with them. He’d been expecting such a reaction, though, and he was pretty sure even the younger brunette’d been expecting such, too.

“Well, Mr. Dall–that’s certainly _one_ way to kick off a class,” Dave finally chuckled once everybody’d Calmed down so he could be heard.

“Hey, nobody ever said I wasn’t a Creative Soul,” he retorted with a grin. “In fact, three of us up here used to get paid to be just that.”

“Wait, really?” This was asked by one of the kids in the third row, who’d introduced himself as Gage at the Beginning of the semester.

“Sure did, kiddo,” Rikki answered from where he still sat behind the drum kit.

“Allow me to _reintroduce_ myself, ladies and gentlemen,” the older brunette said. “Some’ve recognized me as such, others haven’t–and I honestly prefer it that way–but I’m the former bassist, backing vocalist, and slave-driver of the band Poison.”

Jaws all around the room dropped in shock when he said that.

“These two’re close friends and former band mates of mine–drummer and backing vocalist, Rikki Rockett, and multi-instrumentalist and backing vocalist, Richie Kotzen,” Bobby continued as he settled on his stool. “Mr. Kotzen now serves as Woodlawn’s band director, but agreed to come up and gimme a hand today, while Mr. Rockett got roped into it due to Timing.”

“Really?” This was asked by the freshman principal, André Henry.

“Mr. Rockett blew into town over the weekend for my birthday,” he answered with a nod. “Since he wasn’t planning on leaving till either this afternoon or tomorrow Morn, and we were getting into the Music of the mid-to-late-eighties in this class…”

“Couldn’t have _asked_ for better Timing, I suppose,” sophomore principal Kristy Hunt chuckled.

“Nor a better way to get into the Music than by getting a few of the tamer accounts from some of us who lived through that era,” the older brunette agreed.

“Obviously, we’re not gonna go into some of the wilder tales, but rather the history behind the Music,” Rikki said. “I mean, I’m not even gonna discuss what _Talk Dirty to Me_ is about lyrically–should be pretty obviousta anyone who listensta it–but that one was actually more of our former lead guitarist, CC DeVille, than anything.”

The kids–and even the teachers who were on their planning period and decided to sit in to listen–were enthralled as he went on to explain what he meant. Most folks didn’t know it, but CC’d actually been writing the lead riff for the aforementioned song before he met the rest of the band in 1985. Over Time as more of the Music and especially the lyrics were written, it became the song that was now one of the band’s biggest hits ever released.

With a grin on his face, the blonde’d absolutely no shame in saying that all four of them took different lil bits and pieces from artists that Inspired them and kinda threw it into a musical blender. Foghat, Lynyrd Skynyrd, KISS, AC/DC, Led Zeppelin, The Rolling Stones–their list of collective Influences was so long, he didn’t even wanna try naming them all. But each of those Influences could be heard in various places throughout the band’s Music–such as Bobby being the Led Zeppelin lover coming out in his thumping bass riffs and a lotta the new wave and East Coast punk coming out in their Cracker Jack’s lead riffs. However, it wasn’t just the Music that Inspired them–it was also the looks of the bands they grew up on that did it, too.

“I mean, think of Alice Cooper’s shock-rock, and the stage shows KISS still puts on today,” he said. “We took those kinda things and made our own similar, but different style and brand, if ya will.”

“Wouldn’t have worn spandex, if we hadn’t,” the older brunette chuckled.

“No way, man!” Gage laughed. “I can’t imagine any of y’all in spandex!”

“Exhibit A,” he said with a smirk, hanging a couple pictures from photo shoots during the first two albums on the white board behind him with magnets.

“Oh, my God!” The class couldn’t help laughing as they took in the sight of guys who looked more like girls than they didn’t.

“We didn’t necessarily do the whole glam rock, _dude looks like a lady_ kinda thing ’cuz we liked it,” Bobby said. “It was meant to be more of an eye-catcher and a head-scratcher than it wasn’t.”

 _“Are those dudes, or chicks? Lemme get a copy of that and actually_ listen _to the record,”_ the drummer chuckled. “That’s what us and other bands–like Mötley Crüe–wanted folksta think, so we just went out on a limb and hoped it held our weight, so to speak.”

“But just ’cuz we did stuff like that–or that aforementioned band supposedly being into Satanism at one point–doesn’t mean we don’t have our serious side, too,” he said.

“Lyrics almost always tell a story of some sort,” Richie spoke up. “Some tell stories of good Times and wild experiences, others get into more serious topics like one’s Emotions and Spirituality.”

“Let’s add the Realities of the studio and road Life to that, too, dude,” Rikki added, leaning forward to look around the older brunette.

Naturally, even the few teachers who were sitting in were curious as to what they–particularly the blonde–meant by that. Said older brunette chuckled, saying that it’d be easiest to use some of Poison’s songs as his Prime examples since he actually knew their histories, as compared to the works of other bands. His first example was the ever-popular power ballad from his band’s sophomore album, _Every Rose has Its Thorn_.

Initially started in a laundromat by their vocalist while he was doing his laundry on the road after finding out an ex-girlfriend was cheating on him, the lyrics talked about Love and the pain that came alongside it. But another interpretation they often applied to it was that there were different parts of Life that brought equal and sometimes similar amounts of pain. Life on the road wasn’t nearly as glamorous as guys like them made it look–it was hectic and insane, pushing the limits of one’s Sanity every second of every Day. They’d get tired, come down with illnesses that’d spread like Wildfire in confined quarters, and even get homesick after a while. Eventually, tempers’d get short and start flaring more and quicker, which was usually by the Time a tour was due to End, anywhore.

“That was one reason our _Flesh and Blood_ tour got cut short in 1991,” Bobby said. “We’d been stuck together in a recording studio, or trapped on a tour bus together, more than we hadn’t been for five or six Years straight.”

“Other than when we’d hide in our bunks, or just keep to ourselves in our hotel rooms–rare as that usually was–we didn’t really get any alone Time,” the lone blonde elaborated. “Ya know how ya eventually get tired of hanging out with your siblings? Now, imagine being trapped in a rolling Tin can with them, no escape route in sight unless ya wanna go _Splat!_ from jumping out the window while you’re going down the highway.”

“Yeesh,” one of the girls near Gage winced. “Doesn’t sound all that fun to me.”

“And that’s why a lotta us started dabbling with drugs and alcohol, why a lotta folks who did took it _waaaay_ too far,” he said. “Naturally, that starts affecting the Music in any number of ways.”

“Either ya can’t write anything new very well, ya can and it obviously sounds like ya were drunk and/or high, or ya even get to the point of forgetting how to play tunes you’ve long since written,” the older brunette agreed.

“That’s why there’s stuff like Jimi Hendrix floating around,” Richie added. “Not saying he’s a bad artist by any means–just that even his stuff could get a lil weird sometimes.”

“Moving on to another example, though,” his older equivalent continued. “Our song _Something to Believe In_ stemmed from various things that’d make just about anyone lose Faith in not just a Higher Power, but humanity at large.”

“Another one we did– _Let it Play_ –basically says, _Gimme my release and lemme relax from all this crap going on around me,”_ the drummer chuckled.

“And don’t forget that one we did on the last record about drinking,” Bobby told him.

“Oh, _Stay Alive?_ Yeah, can’t forget that one, either,” he agreed.

The younger brunette was the one to notice one of the teachers in the back waiting patiently, her hand raised like she was a student. Giving her a hand gesture to let her know she’d the floor, he listened as she asked what’d Inspired that last song named. So many things’d been speculated–mostly that it was about Bobby and his drinking back in the Day–that no one was entirely sure.

Glancing at his former band mates, he Silently asked how much they should actually say, considering who’d _really_ Inspired it. Nodding, the older brunette turned back to his class–even the impromptu visitors–and took a deep breath before getting into it. He explained that it was written mostly by him about Bret and the crap he was getting into between the releases of _Flesh and Blood_ and _Native Tongue_. Since he’d already gone public with his diabetes Years ago, he explained that that’d been his way of begging his friend to take a step back and look at what he was doing–what he was _gonna_ do–to himself, if he didn’t get help.

“But he insisted that he was fine, that he didn’t have a problem–just like our former guitarist did,” he said.

“We were all worried about him, just like good friends and brothers should be,” Rikki agreed. “But like the old adage says, ya can lead a Horseta Water, butcha can’t make it drink.”

“We tried leading the Horseta the Water, so to speak, but no amount of coaxing could get him to drink,” the older brunette elaborated.

“I think we’ve all heard the tale of how Richie supposedly had an affair with your wife, mostly _from_ Bret,” one of the teachers in the back mused.

“Not true in the slightest,” Bobby told them. “Whether I share her or whatever happens behind closed doors or not is nobody’s business but our own. But if there’s one thing I know about my wife, if no one else, it’s that she’s brutally honest when she wantsta be.”

“The Guilt’d eat me alive before he could find out on his own, were I to do something like that,” the young woman agreed. “Besides, no offenseta these two, but that’d be like messing around with my _actual_ brother-in-law, as far as I’m concerned.”

Everybody in the room laughed at that, only the quartet up front knowing the Truth.

“Music ever since then hasn’t really been that much different,” he said. “Sure, any given artist’s style’s Influenced by various artists they listen to–the same can be said about visual Art, or any other form, too.”

“However, it’s also rooted in one’s personal experiences,” Richie added. “Some good, some bad, others somewhere in between, they all Influence us, all the same.”

None of them were surprised that some of the kids wanted to know more about Life on the road in particular, and they all wracked their memories. All of them–even Lyric–agreed that the Travel aspect could be just as fun as getting into the studio to jam and come up with new material. They got to see places–both domestic and abroad–that they otherwise wouldn’t get to see, and even experience the local cultures and cuisines.

One such example was that a Beach was a Beach, whether it was warm and Sandy or cool and rocky Cliffs lining the coastlines. But in some places, one could find local legends that couldn’t be found anywhere else on the Planet, and that was one of the interesting parts of the job. Getting to try new foods that couldn’t be found here at home could be just as exciting, but also dangerous since there were some things that could obviously make a being sick. And they refused to get into some of the other tales they’d collected over the Years, if only ’cuz they weren’t suitable for minors.

The same could be said for many other bands over the Years–they no doubt found parts of the job aside from unleashing their Creativity that they enjoyed just as much. No doubt one could ask any other recording and touring artist where their favorite place was, and if they didn’t say home due to the lack of Time spent there, they’d prolly get an answer along the lines of somewhere abroad. Bobby chuckled as he admitted that his favorite place was the City in which he’d grown up, ’cuz he loved the warm Sand and Waters of South Florida.

Even Richie couldn’t deny that he’d his favorite artists and places he liked going, but his top favorite of all was his home. No place on the Planet attracted and relaxed him quite like home did, and even Rikki agreed with that assessment wholeheartedly. He’d admit that he’d like to reform the band one Day, but it was pretty clear that wasn’t gonna happen anytime soon. Bret still wasn’t on a very good Path, and none of them wanted to do anything with him in that kinda shape, which meant they wouldn’t have a vocalist. The brunettes clearly enjoyed their current jobs, which meant it was pretty likely even _they_ wouldn’t wanna go back to that Insanity. Well, Bobby wouldn’t, ’cuz he didn’t think the shorter blonde and younger brunette’d ever be able to work together again with the bad blood still between them. And nobody really knew what the shortest blonde who’d ever been a part of the band was up to, or if he was even still alive, most Days.

It wasn’t long afterward that the fourth-lunch dismissal bell was ringing, and everybody–even the teachers, especially the ones with fourth-period classes–let out a collective groan. They’d been having fun learning about not only the Music spanning from the mid-eightiesta the early-nineties, but the Realities that were behind it, as well. Now they’d a better idea of what went into the Music they all knew and loved to varying degrees, what the men and women who made and performed it went through. When they thought about those kinda things, they came to realize that even classical composers were no doubt under a lotta stressta write heartfelt pieces that their listeners could connect with.

Heaving a sigh of relief as the band room cleared out a few minutes later, the older brunette momentarily slumped over his stand. There was no denying that he loved his job, but this particular class’d definitely taken a bit of a toll on him, what with having to relieve memories of a period of his Life that was simultaneously the best and worst. Lyric gently rubbed his back, knowing how he felt, despite the fact that she hadn’t been there with him through all of it. She’d been there for only about half before he’d decided to quit what he loved ’cuz he simply couldn’t take it anymore and needed to get out while he could. Luckily, this’d been his last class, and since he didn’t have marching band practice today, he was free to go home and recuperate mentally.

But thinking about Rikki admitting that he’d like to eventually get the band back together begged to question–did he _really_ love what he’d chosen to move on to, or was it just a filler for the Time being?


	8. Eight

_March, 1997_

As the next few months passed, Bobby didn’t really have Time to think about that question he’d asked himself the Day after his birthday. November and December were all about wrapping up the football Season and getting prepared for the annual Winter concert that all the various performing Arts students did. Dance, band, chorus–those were just a few who’d their own concerts on separate Nights, some kids participating in more than one ’cuz they took more than one of those classes. And that wasn’t counting preparing for the Christmas parade that Mebane threw, which the Marching Eagles participated in every Year.

When the first Day of Winter break rolled around on December twenty-third, both brunettes couldn’t have possibly been happier. Granted, Richie hadn’t been _quite_ as busy as his older equivalent, if only ’cuz the middle school still did classes that lasted the entire school Year, not just one semester. That meant he didn’t have to go through the _End-of-the-Year_ prep till the End of the second semester, rather than at the End of each one.

But the thing that even Lyric noticed was that the older brunette seemed to be in increasing amounts of pain as the Winter settled in good and wore on. Given the way he’d fucked up his neck with that motorcycle wreck in the late-eighties, she thought it was just the cold making it act up. After all, his right hand was giving him a lil trouble from where he’d broken his thumb and two fingers on the _Flesh and Blood_ tour right before they’d cancelled the second half of it. Cold Weather was known to make something like that act up, and since he refused to go see a doctor unless he absolutely had to, she couldn’t think of anything else. The good thing was that taking Aleve for his hand seemed to help his neck a lil, especially when combined with a massage.

One Morn about a week before _Ostara,_ though, Bobby heard the phone ringing in his office when he paused the concert band so he could work with a particular section for a minute. Thinking it was prolly the Music store they used for buying and repairing school-owned instruments, Music and Arts, he told his classta give him a minute. Everyone nodded, some kids raising their instrumentsta keep working on the song they were trying to learn for their Spring concert as he headed outta the band room.

Sure enough, he wasn’t disappointed to find out it was Music and Arts calling to let him know that one of the tubas he’d sent off for some repair work was gonna be sent back to Eastern soon. It prolly wouldn’t be till the following week since today was a Frigga’s Day, which he understood and was totally cool with. Quickly Ending the call so he could get back to work, he grimaced while he was where his students couldn’t see and rubbed the back of his neck. Maybe he’d have to make an appointment with some local doctor about finding a specialist for this shit soon, ’cuz it was almost to the point that he couldn’t stand it anymore. He just didn’t have the Time right now, so he made a mental note to start looking into it once he got home from work that Eve as he headed back into the band room.

Just like he almost always did when entering said classroom from this side, Bobby jumped down the three stairs that led up to that particular door from the second built-in riser. But as soon as his feet hit the band room floor, he knew there was something horribly wrong without even having to ask. He not only felt, but heard two _pops_ in his neck, and the pain that shot up into his head and down the rest of his spine to his tailbone was so intense, he couldn’t bite back a scream as he immediately hit his knees. The students let out startled shrieks of their own as he crumpled, falling onto his side and curling up once he’d hit his knees.

“Mr. Dall!”

He vaguely recognized the voice as Johnny, if only ’cuz his ears were ringing from the blazing agony he was in as he lay there in the fetal position.

“Mr. Dall, look at me!” The young man knelt down next to him and tried to gently lift his head, which just made him let out another blood-curdling scream.

Even Nathan was terrified as he turned to look over his shoulder at him.

“Get somebody up in the officeta call EMS!” he barked. “My mom’s a nurse, and I think there’s something wrong with his neck!”

“Tell ’em to call down to Woodlawn for Richie Kotzen,” the older brunette sobbed brokenly, uncaring of whether he looked silly right now. “He’s one of my Powers of Attorney.”

“What about your wife?” Johnny asked.

“Someone gosta stay home with the kids,” he told him. “She’ll freak too much, if she sees me like this, and won’t do me or the kids any good.”

“All right, all right,” the young man said, nodding. “Ya heard him, Nate–do it!”

Returning the nod, the drum major hit the button under the white board that’d page the office, then simply waited.

_“Office?”_ Mrs Gentry said once she got the page.

“Mrs. Gentry, we need somebody to call EMS for the band room,” he responded. “Mr. Dall’s had an accident, and he’s in a lotta pain.”

_“What happened? I gotta know so I can pass it on,”_ the receptionist said.

“He jumped down those three steps that lead to the door nearest his office like he always does when he comes in from that side, screamed, and hit his knees as soon as his feet hit the floor,” Nathan explained.

“Mrs. Gentry, I think there’s something wrong with his neck!” Johnny called out. “My mom’s a nurse, and he’s acting like I’ve heard her describe a lotta patients with neck and back injuries.”

_“Dear God,”_ she breathed. _“I’ma send Mr. Ebert down and call EMS for him.”_

“Before ya do that, he also requested that somebody call down to Woodlawn,” the young man told her. “He says Mr. Kotzen’s one of his Powers of Attorney.”

_“I’ll put Mrs. Hunt on that part then so we can get it done faster,”_ Mrs. Gentry said. _“Mr. Ebert’s on his way down, so just hang tight.”_

Not really seeing how they could do much else with their teacher on the floor in the fetal position and sobbing like a baby, the young men readily agreed. Johnny made him look up at him, quickly apologizing but saying that he’d to lift his head so he could use his own leg as a pillow. It was best to get his spine as closeta properly aligned as he could, or it could make any damage done to it even worse, but it was gonna hurt like a bitch when he did it.

The drum major knelt down next to them, his friend and classmate getting him to help with checking something he’d learned from his mother. Luckily, their teacher was able to push down against the blonde student’s hands with his feet, which meant he still had sensation and function below his waist. However, that and his attempt to grip his hand tightly–both to test his upper body strength _and_ for when his head was lifted–proved to be on the weak side. That worried the brunette student, ’cuz it was a sign that something somewhere along his spinal column was at least pinched, which wasn’t good. He _definitely_ had to be careful with him, or he could risk paralyzing him for Life, if not actually killing him, were something to slip the wrong way.

Bobby let out another scream that startled the remaining students just as Mr. Ebert ran in from the double doors on the other side of the room. Johnny was slow and gentle about lifting his head, a hand under both it and his neck for support as he gently scooted closer to him. Once his leg was positioned so his thigh’d fill the curve between his neck and shoulder, he was just as gentle about laying his head back down. Even though he was in agony, he’d to admit that having his cervical spine supported like this definitely helped with his pain, which was why he acted like he didn’t even notice how closeta the young man’s crotch his face was.

_“Mr. Kotzen?”_

Richie gave his sixth-grade Woodwind section the signal to End what they’d been working on for their own Spring concert when he heard a voice over the PA system. It sounded like the receptionist up in the main office, which meant that he prolly had a student being signed out that he needed to send up. That happened on a fairly regular basis, so hearing said PA system go off in his band room didn’t exactly surprise him as he turned slightly to respond over his shoulder.

“Yes, ma’am?” he responded, trying to set a good example for his young students.

_“You’re being requested up at Eastern,”_ the receptionist said, a slightly odd note to her voice. _“Something about Mr. Dall being hurt.”_

“What?” Richie couldn’t help practically barking the lone word, he was so surprised.

_“All Mrs. Hunt could tell me was that it’s bad enough to call EMS,”_ Ms. Heather Walton told him. _“And that one of the students said he specifically requested you.”_

“Dear Gods,” the younger brunette mumbled so that even his class couldn’t hear him. “Call ’em back and tell ’em I’ll be up there in a couple minutes. And call across the hall to get Ms. Jonesta keep an eye on my class till they’re dismissed–if it’s what I think it is, I can’t be wasting Time stopping in myself, or I would.”

_“Will do, Mr. Kotzen,”_ she said, her voice followed by a crackle as she hung up the phone she’d been using to call down to his classroom.

He wasn’t surprised when his students looked scared and worried as he quickly packed up his things, knowing damn good and well he wouldn’t be coming back to work today. Since he didn’t wanna break anything even remotely closeta doctor-patient confidentiality, all he’d tell them was that the high school’s band director’d once gotten into a bad motorcycle wreck. From what he knew, those old injuries still acted up from Time to Time, but it sounded like they were _really_ acting up right now. Doubtless the high school was calling EMS for him just to be absolutely sure he wasn’t hurt _too_ badly, and to get him the proper care he’d need, if he _was_ hurt worse than they thought.

With his personal belongings packed up, Richie took off like a Bat outta Hell just as the chorus teacher across the hall stepped out to check on his class. All he could tell her as he started up the stairs backward was that he’d been summoned to Eastern for a fellow teacher whom he knew personally, and it wasn’t sounding too good. He honestly didn’t know much more than that–after all, he wasn’t about to spread Bobby’s medical information when all he had was a suspicion–so he couldn’t really tell her anything else.

Darting up the hall at the top of the stairs, the younger brunette soon found himself in the main lobby and darting out the front doors. He didn’t care about whether he set a bad example for the few classes he’d passed in the hallways that were on their way back to their classrooms, likely from places like the media center or computer lab. And he didn’t care about how bright it was as he ran around the front of the building to the sidewalk that ran parallel to the bus parking lot and led up to the high school. The only thing he cared about was getting to his friend, the man who was more or less the male equivalent of a sister wife to him.

After jogging up the flight of stairs that led to the building the high school’s band room was housed in, he saw a group of students in the hallway before he even opened the doors. If he’d to make any kinda educated guess, he’d say this was the band class the older brunette’d been teaching before whatever happened to him–well, happened.

“Mr. Kotzen!” one of the girls he’d met that Time he helped out with marching band practice cried as he ran up, which caught one of the administrators’ attention.

“What happened to him?” he panted, hunching over to brace his hands on his knees as he caught his breath.

“You’re _really_ Mr. Richie Kotzen?” the woman asked.

“At last check, yeah,” Richie answered, still panting slightly as he straightened. “Do I need to letcha card me like I’m buying liquor to prove it?”

“No, no–there’s no need for that,” she chuckled. “Kristy Hunt, tenth-grade principal.”

“Fill me in, ’cuz I’ve a suspicion, but I’d rather it be confirmed,” the younger brunette told her.

“Might be easier to let Johnny and Nathan do that,” Kristy said. “Let’s go in the double doors, considering where he’s at.”

Nodding, he made to follow her around the other side of the band room, and he wasn’t surprised by all the curious and worried looks he was getting from the students lining either side of this hall. Once they were outta earshot, she said that all she knew since her focus was on clearing out his class was that he’d apparently fallen and was in a lotta pain. She wasn’t sure if he couldn’t get up, if he simply didn’t wanna due to the pain he was in, or if it was ’cuz the students at his side just wouldn’t let him.

Cursing hotly as she opened the double doors, Richie headed in, and he wasn’t surprised by the sight he was met with from across the room. The older brunette lay on his right side, almost completely curled up like he was about to get a spinal tap, his head on Johnny’s thigh. He didn’t appear to be conscious from this distance, but he quickly proved him wrong when he opened his eyes at hearing someone approaching.

“Jeez, man–what’dja do to yourself?” he asked as he knelt down.

“Jumped down the steps like I always do,” Bobby answered with a wince. “Felt and heard two _pops_ in my neck and hit my knees.”

“Fuck,” the younger brunette hissed, completely uncaring of having students and an administrator next to them.

“Language, Mr. Kotzen,” Dave warned him gently.

“With all due Respect, Mr. Ebert, this is no Time to be flushing my potty mouth, so to speak,” Richie said as he looked up at him. “I’ll bet my left nut that he’s two ruptured discs right on the threshold between his lower neck and upper back, and I don’t bet body parts–especially ones guys’re so attached to–lightly.”

“Oh, Jesus Christ.” The young man whose lap his head was laying in looked at him with wide eyes. “Does he’ve a history of this kinda thing?”

The younger brunette simply cocked a brow at him, unsure of how much he should tell him.

“My mom’s a nurse, so I’ve at least heard about all kindsa stuff,” he chuckled. “That’s why I haven’t let him move, even though he still has sensation and function in his extremities, even if it’s a lil on the weak side.”

Grabbing his hand, he got Bobby to Return the squeeze without saying a word, and he couldn’t help his shock. “More than a _lil_ on the weak side, Johnny–he can barely grip my hand compared to what I’m used to.”

He then grabbed the young man’s hand and squeezed with the amount of strength he was used to feeling from his friend, and said young man’s eyes widened in just as much shock.

“Shit, I didn’t realize it was _that_ weak,” he breathed.

“So, what on Earth happened to him?” Nathan asked, now even more worried than he already was.

“Part of this is secondhand, so bear with me,” Richie said. “Back in the late-eighties, he got into a drunken motorcycle wreck that left him with a couple herniated discs.”

The older brunette howled when he just barely ghosted his fingertips over the affected area, but thankfully didn’t so much as arch his back.

“He was apparently told he’d eventually need those discs replaced and his spine fused to correct the problem, but there wasn’t much point in doing such an invasive surgery without a dire need for it,” he continued once he settled down.

“Well, a discektomy and spinal fusion’s nothing to play around with,” Johnny said. “It’s a major surgery, and he’ll be outta commission and _in_ physical therapy for _months_ just to take care of himself, never mind come back to work.”

Even Dave Ebert looked horrified at the Thought of such a young man going through something like this, and not necessarily ’cuz he was wondering who he could get to replace him for the rest of the Year. After all, it didn’t sound like this was the kinda thing where he’d spend a week in the hospital, then get to come back to work, as long as he was put on light duty. This sounded like it could very well be a matter of Life and Death, if handled improperly–which was exactly what they were trying to avoid.

As a pair of EMTs were finally brought through those double doors with their gear, Richie said that he’d lay money on the _pops_ he’d heard and felt being those discs rupturing. If not that, it prolly woulda been his actual vertebrae slamming down on one another from suddenly losing their support. He wasn’t a doctor by any means, and he certainly didn’t specialize in neurology, so he admitted that he might be wrong.

Looking up at the EMTs as they dropped their stretcher down, the younger brunette told him that he was one of their patient’s Powers of Attorney. He said that he needed to run home–which was literally right across the street–so he could inform the man’s wife of what was going on, not to mention grab his car. He wasn’t about to let Lyric see him like this any more than Bobby apparently _wanted_ to be seen like this by her. Not only that, but he’d a point in saying that _somebody_ needed to be there for the kids, and it might as well be their mother. Even though she’d kept her cool pretty well when he’d busted up his hand and needed it filleted, this was a totally different Dragon, so to speak, and neither were entirely sure of how she’d react.

A quick run across the street left Richie dumping his work bag in the foyer, where he paused long enough to grab his keys. Naturally, his shared wife was startled since he wasn’t supposed to be home this early, but she was worried sick once he started explaining. She desperately wanted to be by her older husband’s side, but he was able to talk some sense into her by pleading his caseta her inner mommy. He promised he’d call her whenever he got any kinda update, good or bad, so it wasn’t like she was gonna be kept outta the loop or anything ridiculous like that.

Once she’d acquiesced on the grounds that _he_ be the one to let her know anything as he found out, the younger brunette headed out to the garage. He didn’t care if any students who came outta the high school realized he was a bit wilder than he appeared when they saw his Sea-blue ’92 Firebird–he just cared about getting back to Bobby’s side. Parking behind the ambulance out front with more than enough Space for him to be loaded up, he climbed back out to head back to the band room so he could check in. By that Time, they’d gotten his friend strapped down to a back board, a cervical collar around his neck, and were about to move him onto the stretcher. That was when he got another surprise when Johnny told him that he and Nathan’d signed themselves out, ’cuz they were too worried _not_ to go to the hospital with him.

Since they both proved to be eighteen and could make decisions like that for themselves, Richie didn’t try to argue as they followed the EMTs out front. He just told them that he hoped Nathan wouldn’t be _too_ uncomfortable in his back seat, ’cuz he’d have grabbed Lyric’s truck, if he’d known their Intent to come with him. Time’d run out to Change his mind, though, so they all hopped in while the older brunette was being loaded into the back of the ambulance and got ready to head out.


	9. Nine

Two hours after arriving at the nearest hospital–which was Alamance Regional Medical Center about ten miles away in Burlington–Richie found himself calling home with his first update. A thorough exam’d determined that the older brunette was better off being treated at Duke University Hospital down in Durham, ’cuz they were better prepared to handle his kinda injury. He wasn’t too sure if that was true, or if it was just that the surgeon here at this hospital just didn’t wanna have to actually work. All he knew was what he’d been told, and that they were packaging him up to be taken to the second hospital mentioned.

“Hey there, hon,” he said once he’d found a payphone to use and their shared wife answered.

 _“How’s he doing?”_ Lyric asked without missing a beat.

“He’s stable,” the younger brunette answered. “They’re packing him up to haul him down to Duke, though.”

 _“Thank the fuckin’ Gods!”_ she practically screamed, making him wince as he pulled the receiver away from his head slightly. _“I’d rather he be taken there!”_

“Any particular reason why?” Richie asked, sounding as confused as he did curious.

 _“’Cuz ARMC’s a bad habit of overdosing people when trying to treat severe pain,”_ the young woman answered matter-of-factly. _“In fact, I’ve heard a few too many stories of that happening, and the patient_ not _surviving.”_

“Fuck… Okay, yeah–I’m glad he’s being transferred, too, if _that’s_ the case,” he admitted.

 _“Besides, Duke’s better with spinal and other neurological surgeries,”_ Lyric continued. _“They were the ones who replaced the discs in my pappaw’s neck, not to mention my mammaw’s back surgery to correct her spina bifida.”_

“So, you’ve a pretty good idea already of how well he’ll be treated there,” the younger brunette said, having a bit of a Light bulb moment.

 _“Bingo. I hate Duke when it comesta their sports teams_ – _particularly basketball_ – _but their medical side’s pretty much top-notch for North Carolina,”_ she told him. _“Only other place that might come anywhere near close’s UNC, but I think even they’re slightly below Duke.”_

“I’m guessing ya know how to get there since I know damn good and well you’re not staying home now?” Richie asked.

 _“Well enough,”_ the young woman chuckled. _“Ya forget, I grew up in this area, so I know back roadsta get there that’d leave you on the shoulder scratching your head for hours.”_

“Yeah, that sounds about right,” he laughed. “Hell, I’ma have to follow the damn ambulance just to figure out where the hell I’m going, as it is.”

 _“Johnny and Nathan still with ya?”_ Lyric asked.

When the younger brunette told her that the pair of teenagers _were_ still with him, she said that if they went with him to Duke, too, listen to them. They may not know that area quite as well as _she_ did, but they’d no doubt be able to find their way around better than he’d be able to, if he lost the ambulance. After all, he was about to cross damn near two and a-half countiesta get from ARMC down to Duke, and there were a metric fuck-ton of alternate routes between the two hospitals.

Once he’d let her go so she could pack up the kids since he knew she was gonna, Richie headed off to find the teenagers who’d accompanied him. He ran his fingers through his hair, which he’d long since taken outta its braid since that combined with the stress of everything going on was starting to give him a headache. Part of him hoped they’d be on the move soon, but another part was kinda dreading having to head to Durham, too.

Johnny and Nathan both said they were sticking with him till they knew their teacher’d gotten outta surgery since there was no doubt he was gonna need it now. Seeing how stressed he obviously was, the brunette teen offered to drive once they headed out since they were still awaiting Duke’s ambulance. Chuckling as he smirked, the younger brunette told him that if there was one thing he and Bobby were both sticklers on, it was that no one besides them drove their cars unless it was their wife driving. Then again, they both lavished almost more attention on their cars than said woman got sometimes, his older equivalent especially since his’d belonged to his grampa before the man’s passing.

Both teens shrugged and said that just ’cuz they made such an offer didn’t mean he’d to take them up on it, which they were fine with. Their main concern–which was one he shared–was that they all make it to their next destination alive and in one piece. He certainly appreciated the offer and even thanked them for it, but still held fast to his refusal to take them up on it. Moments later, a nurse stepped into the waiting area with a concerned look on her face, and he felt his pulse ratchet up when she started heading toward them. Something told him that trouble was on the horizon, and he almost didn’t wanna know what kinda trouble, exactly.

“Mr. Kotzen, he’s demanding your presence,” she said, sounding a bit nervous.

“Somehow, I’m not surprised,” Richie chuckled. “Then again, I once did the same thing to a certain extent.”

The teenagers he’d been talking to cocked their brows at him.

“Not in the waiting room, boys,” he told them. “Long as she lets even y’all go back, I’ll explain it there, but it’s _waaaay_ too personal to be getting into out here.”

“Are they family?” the nurse asked curiously.

“We were at the scene when Mr. Dall’s injury occurred,” Johnny answered.

The younger brunette shrugged. “By what I’ve been told, it was Johnny who kept him from hurting himself even worse. Whether he’s family or not doesn’t matter to me, and it prolly won’t matter to Rob, either–the kid pretty much saved his Life by not letting him move, as far as I’m concerned.”

Nodding, she waved the young men back with him, and he headed off to the trauma bay his friend had been hauled into once they’d arrived. He wasn’t the slightest bit surprised to find that Bobby’d apparently gotten combative enough to earn himself four-point restraintsta hold him still before he fucked up his neck even worse. Knowing how he was, though, he knew without a doubt that being tied down was only making his attitude worse, which was why he moved to start unstrapping him, despite a nurse’s protests.

“Hey, hey, hey–settle down, man,” Richie said, his tone almost a croon as he leaned over where he could see him clearly.

“Get these fuckers off me!” he sobbed, pulling at the restraints again.

“Settle down, and I will,” the younger brunette assured him, gently cupping his cheek. “But I’m not, if you’re not gonna settle down so I don’t get my face busted.”

Bobby almost immediately settled down, much to the observing nurse’s shock.

“There we go,” he murmured, gently kissing his forehead as if he were one of the boys while he was unbuckling the restraints. “Johnny, get the ones on his ankles–I move outta sight right now, and he’s just gonna start up again.”

“Ya sure about that, Mr. Kotzen?” he asked.

“They’re just making him _more_ combative,” the younger brunette answered with a nod. “Nobody–and I do mean _nobody_ –but his wife getsta tie him down without him going ape-shit in a bad way.”

“I’m not even gonna ask how ya know that,” he said, somehow managing a chuckle.

“Let’s just say I made the mistake of asking about something in her nightstand one Night ’cuz I thought she Intended to use them on me,” Richie chuckled. “Otherwise, I _wouldn’t_ know since ya know damn good and well I don’t wanna.”

“Fair enough,” the older brunette said, heaving a relieved sigh as he felt the restraints around his ankles disappear. “Thanks for being here, man.”

“Hey, ya were once right by my side, holding my hand like I was a kid till they knocked me out so I could have my dick filleted,” he laughed. “Why the hell _wouldn’t_ I Return the favor, even though I’ll be the first to admit I never actually wanted to?”

“Wait, what?” Nathan sounded shocked.

Laughing again as he settled on a stool so he could look up at the teens, but still be seen by Bobby from where he lay, he couldn’t help a slight grin. The younger brunette waited till the staff’d left them alone, then reminded them of what they’d been told about how they shared Lyric as their wife. Once they nodded and said they remembered that part, he got into the part that’d gotten him accused of having an affair with her.

Both young men winced and cupped themselves when he explained how Bret’d yanked him outta his bunk by his hair that Night, resulting in a ruptured dorsal artery he hadn’t known about at the Time. Richie grimaced as he recalled the pain he’d been in that Night, especially by the Time their flight landed at LAX, which was what’d prompted the young woman into dragging him to the ER. She’d been by his side till he was well and thoroughly knocked out, too, but he’d a different connection with the older brunette due to it. After all, they were both guys, so he could sympathize with him on several different levels a lil better than she could.

Now Johnny and Nathan both realized why he’d said what he meant was insanely too personal to discuss in the waiting room, and they didn’t blame him. They knew it was prolly hard to talk about in a private setting, if only ’cuz they wouldn’t wanna relive that kinda scenario, so they doubted he did, either. He couldn’t help another laugh as he confirmed that suspicion once it was uttered aloud, but that was his equivalent’s reason for wanting him within sight right now.

Glancing down at the gurney he was on, still strapped down to the back board he’d been put on, they could see how much Calmer Bobby was now. He seemed like he could lay there and fall asleep, were it not for the pain he was undoubtedly still in and refused to be given anything for. Compared to just a few minutes ago when they could hear him screaming and cussing out in the waiting room, it was a vast difference. Then again, he might not stay quite this Calm once he was loaded into Duke’s ambulance, which a nurse came over to tell them’d just arrived outside. A quick look at the younger brunette showed his Fear, which was something they weren’t used to seeing outta him and just made him seem all the more human.

Richie gently kissed his forehead again as he rose, his hand locking around his friend’s in a much tighter grip as he assured him they’d be right behind this ambulance. He didn’t care if a cop came up behind him and was giving him Lights and sirens the majority of the trip to Durham–he wasn’t pulling over for shit till they arrived, which was when he’d deal with any such thing.

Another two hours passed after Bobby was loaded into the second ambulance of the Day, which led to his friend and the teens finding themselves in the surgical waiting area down at Duke. Lyric was taking her Time with getting there since she’d a truck load of kidsta worry about, which meant she was taking Highway Seventy all the way from Mebane instead of I-forty. None of the three men waiting for her–or word about the older brunette, whichever came first–could say they weren’t relieved to hear that, though. At least she wasn’t being careless with their safety, despite being so worried about her older husband and how he was doing.

“I just hope his recovery’s on the shorter End of the spectrum, going by what that surgeon was saying,” Johnny sighed, pushing his glasses up his nose.

“Well, so do I–just prolly for different reasons,” Richie agreed. “Trust me when I say it’s hard to keep him pinned down anywhere without drugging him, if he’s not being used as a mattress by a sleeping baby.”

“Damn, seriously?” the blonde teenager chuckled.

“He’s a Scorpio–fucker’s pretty much genetically engineered to be on the move constantly,” he answered with a laugh.

“You’re not shitting us, are ya?” the brunette teen asked.

“From what I’ve read outta everything Lyric’s collected about the Zodiac, Sagittarius is the most physically active sign,” the younger brunette explained. “Scorpio and Gemini follow at a close second, Pisces being the third most active.”

“So, what’re _you?”_ he asked curiously.

“I’m an Aquarius, which puts me toward the bottom End of the spectrum,” Richie chuckled. “Well, bottom-to-mid, actually.”

“I’m almost scared to ask about Miss Lyric, then,” Nathan laughed.

“Oh, she lives up to the lazy Libra stereotype,” the younger brunette said. “She _hates_ physical activity unless of a specific sort, hint hint–and even then, she can be kinda lazy about it.”

Both teens’d to bite their wriststa muffle the laughter they burst into as he grinned, neither failing to miss that he was taking a crack as his own sex Life. Then again, Richie wasn’t kidding about how his shared wife could be kinda lazy about even sex, ’cuz while she’d do as much as she could with finding a rhythm, she generally preferred to let _him_ do it. Course, with her rheumatoid arthritis, he wasn’t exactly surprised that she was lazy–even during sex–whether it was a personality trait attributed to her Zodiac sign or not.

Said wife walked into the waiting area moments later, so he knew he’d to shut up with a quickness, or he was gonna get beaned with something. Lyric leaned down to give him a kiss as she handed Lachlan to him, the boy almost immediately grabbing the tips of his hair. Their daughter was quick to force her way into his lap, too, which didn’t bother him in the slightest as he watched her pace slightly.

Lyric always got fidgety when she was worried about something, which was definitely one way to get her off her gorgeous ass and into motion. Granted, he’d prefer that she got up and moved around ’cuz she actually wanted to, not ’cuz she was worried sick about one of her husbands. That was what finally made him gently settle Soleil in the chair next to him, then reach out and snag the back of her waistband as she passed him again. A gentle tug was all it took to have her rump planted on his knee, and he was quick to keep her from getting up again by wrapping an arm around her waist.

“Relax, hon,” Richie murmured, gently nuzzling her temple. “Ya said it yourself when we were on the phone–he’s in the best hands in the State.”

“Doesn’t mean I ain’t gonna worry, damn it,” she half-snapped, which he instantly forgave, considering the circumstances.

“Don’t make me get a janitor to unlock a supply closet for us or something,” the younger brunette chuckled. “’Cuz I don’t think Johnny and Nathan’d mind watching the kids, if I have to.”

“Richard Dale Kotzen, Jr.!” Lyric squawked, turning enough to bonk him upside the back of his head.

“Last I checked, that’s my name,” he snickered. “And _woulda_ been Lachlan’s name, too, if I’d my way about it.”

“You’re cruisin’ for a bruisin’, Kotzen,” the young woman warned him. “Especially considering we’ve a pair of young men with us that don’t need to be hearing our personal business.”

“I don’t think much can get worse than what Bret caused me to go through a few Years ago,” Richie dead-panned. “Which they already know about, by the way.”

“Well, she kinda has a point,” Johnny chuckled. “If Mr. Dall doesn’t even wanna know, why should we?”

“See? My point exactly, ya lovable ass!” she told him.

“Key word there being _lovable,”_ the younger brunette chuckled. “Besides, teasing ya one way or another gotcha to settle down a lil bit, didn’t it?”

“You and Rob both’re such assholes,” Lyric pouted. “See what I’ve to put up with, boys? The only Time it Ends is when they’re asleep–and sometimes, it doesn’t End, even then!”

He and Nathan both laughed again at their playful, if somewhat raunchy banter, which they were glad to see and hear. They’d no doubt that the same thing often happened between her and the older brunette, but that it was all in good fun and jest. Somehow, they got the feeling that nobody ever truly got mad at one another, and if they did, they’d find somewhere to hide till they Calmed down, then talk it out like rational adults.

Looking up when he heard _Friends and family of Robert Kuykendall?,_ Richie saw what appeared to be an OR nurse across the waiting room with her mask pulled beneath her chin. He used his free hand to wave her over, quickly introducing those with him, especially his shared wife–who was also his other Power of Attorney. As it turned out, she was coming out to update them, saying that the surgeon’d just gotten the old, useless discs removed from Bobby’s cervical spine. Once he’d made sure everything was cleaned out–as in, no hidden debris–and sterile, he’d get to work on replacing the discs he’d removed.

After the discs were replaced, the surgeon’d get to work on fusing the vertebra nearest them together with Titanium plates and screws. Those plates and screws’d keep the vertebrae stable, rather than allowing them to slip since his spine’d never be quite as solid without them as it’d been before. Course, the nurse admitted that his spine hadn’t exactly been stable after herniating those discs, but it’d certainly been more stable than it’d be without anchoring those few bones together.

Even Johnny and Nathan were relieved, yet still worried by the nurse’s update, but at least they knew that things were going well so far. Provided that everything continued to go well, they’d prolly be bringing him outta the worst of the anesthesia and down to recovery within the next couple hours. Once in recovery, Bobby’d sleep off the last of said anesthesia like pretty much every patient that was put under, and he’d remain there for at least a couple Days. Depending on how he did, that’d determine whether he was kept a full week, or possibly even longer than that. The one thing he was gonna hate while he was in the hospital was that in addition to being stuck in a cervical collar, he was gonna be cathed since the surgeon wasn’t gonna want him getting up and moving around unless absolutely necessary.

Lyric giggled at the Thought of how pissy her highly-active Scorpio of a husband was gonna get at being bedridden. Being unable to get up and so much as stretch his legs was gonna drive him absolutely insane, so he definitely wasn’t gonna like that part. Knowing he was gonna be damn near bedridden for at least the next month after his discharge, not to mention incapable of doing what he normally could without serious physical therapy was just gonna drive him that much crazier. She knew they could all get through it, though, ’cuz if they could survive the Insanity known as Poison and what’d ultimately caused it to implode, they could get through pretty much anything.


	10. Ten

The next Morn, Bobby really and truly woke for the first Time since he’d been put under general anesthesia in the OR. He’d been in and out–mostly outta it–after being brought down to recovery, but that was relatively normal right after surgery. Since his vitals’d remained stable through the Eve and Night, none of the staff was too worried that he spent most of that Time asleep.

Granted, he wasn’t the least bit happy to wake up and realize that not only could he not really move his head into a comfortable position, but he’d been cathed while he was out. Now he totally understood Richie’s hatred for having a plastic tube shoved up his dick just so he could piss without pissing all over himself. Well, that was assuming he wasn’t so swollen, he couldn’t piss at all without having the catheter in to essentially hold him open. Either way, it was highly annoying for a couple different reasons, the first being that it was making him feel like he’d to piss, whether he actually had to or not.

Realizing he was alone, the older brunette managed to find the _Call_ button on his bed rail and hit it, despite barely being able to see since he couldn’t crane his neck. He couldn’t help a grumble as he waited for the page to be answered, which thankfully didn’t take very long, considering where he was. A relatively young ginger walked in, a smile crossing her lips when she realized that he was actually awake and had hit the button on purpose, rather than by accident in his sleep.

“Well, good Morn, Mr. Dall,” she chuckled, pointing toward the white board hanging on the wall at the foot of his bed. “My name’s Rowan, and I’ll be your nurse till shift Change at six this Eve.”

“Eh, I wouldn’t quite call it _good,”_ Bobby said with a bit of a smirk. “I mean, can’t really move my head, so I’m not too sure if that’s feeding into how much my neck hurts or not, and I’m definitely not liking this catheter.”

“You’d be surprised how often I hear that from patients fresh outta the surgery you just had,” the nurse told him. “But it’s normal–your cervical spine was just put through quite the bit of trauma in a way, and your body’s to adjust to the sudden Changes it underwent.”

“It just feels like my neck’s stiff and needsta be cracked,” he grumbled.

“That’s most likely the hardware anchoring your vertebrae together,” Rowan explained. “Which’s why you’re in a cervical collar, and definitely means _no_ cracking your neck–or even trying to.”

“What about this catheter, then? ’Cuz it’s seriously annoying the shit outta me right now,” the older brunette admitted.

“Once Dr. Morgan says ya can get up and start moving around, the urologist’ll come down to evaluatecha and decide when it can come out,” she answered. “Till then, the less we’ve to pick ya up and move ya, the less chances those replacement discs’ll slip, even with the hardware in there to prevent that.”

“Dare I ask how long that could take?” Bobby asked, almost afraid to hear the answer.

“You’re definitely gonna be stuck there for today,” the nurse chuckled. “Then again, you’re only about twelve hours outta surgery, so that’s pretty normal.”

“And I’m guessing any longer depends on how I’m Healing?” he asked.

“Bingo.” Rowan nodded, finally moving to check his vitals. “If all goes well, ya might even be discharged in the next couple Days, but I’m not making any promises–depends on whether Dr. Morgan thinks you’ll actually follow his instructions to the letter or not.”

The older brunette couldn’t help cocking a brow, which was his way of asking what she meant since he now had a thermometer probe stuck in his mouth. She made no bones about how he was supposed to stay off his feet and get as much rest as he possibly could for the first month outta surgery. Granted, he was gonna have a physical therapist coming to his home to work with him on being able to do things like strengthen his grip and just retain what upper body strength he still had. However, that wasn’t including getting a bit more range of motion in his neck so he could turn his head better and easier as he Healed.

Bobby couldn’t help huffing as she ejected the probe cover from the thermometer before getting it back in its home, where it stayed when it wasn’t in use. He couldn’t help that he didn’t like sitting still–he’d never been one to just sit on his ass, even when he was a kid. All his Life, he’d been so full of Energy and just on the move that even his mother and siblings’d trouble keeping up with him sometimes.

Rowan laughed as she admitted that she got patients like that all the Time, and that she was a pretty active person in her own right. A grin crossed her face as she admitted to beinga Pisces, which was what she blamed her high Energy levels on more than anything. He couldn’t help a grin and laugh of his own as he admitted that he was a Scorpio, which his wife swore was what made him run around like a Chicken with its head cut off more than he didn’t.

“See? We already know how it feelsta wanna be on the move,” the nurse chuckled.

“Trust me, ya don’t even know the half of it with me,” Bobby retorted, that grin never leaving his face. “I mean, I used to be in a band that toured the Planet a few Times over–we pretty much never sat still without a sprained ankle, broken leg, or something along those lines.”

“Really, now?” She seemed surprised when he admitted that.

“He’s definitely not kidding, miss.”

Managing to glance over toward the door, he spotted a pair of blondes he hadn’t seen in a while–one for a longer while than the other. “Well, look what the Cat dragged in.”

“Glad to see you’re awake, dude,” Rikki chuckled. “We didn’t realize anyone was in here with ya, so we’ll step back out till she’s done, if need be.”

“I was actually just finishing up,” Rowan told them. “Just don’t try to make him move more than he hasta, especially turning his head–we don’t need or want the hardware now in his neck slipping or anything.”

“Good thing chairs can be moved pretty easily, huh?” the taller blonde asked.

Even the slightly shorter blonde with him laughed as they moved the chairs that were in the room to where he’d be able to see them without having to twist or turn his head funny.

“Dr. Morgan’ll prolly be in to check on him soon once he starts his rounds, so y’all might have to step out then,” she said. “Otherwise, just don’t give us a reason to call security.”

Bobby chuckled as his friends settled next to him, saying that if they’d to call security on these two, they’d prolly be taking him back into surgery. They were known for sometimes taking swings at each other, and if security’d to be called, no doubt one of them’d taken a swing at another. At least they were capable of kissing and making up, as it were, ’cuz they rarely stayed mad at each other for long, no matter how their fights Ended.

Once the nurse was gone, he turned his attention to said friends, readily admitting that he was surprised to see them. He was more surprised to see Bret than his taller compatriot, which made both blondes laugh as they settled in and laced their hands in their laps. Rikki explained how Lyric’d called him the Eve previous while he was still in surgery to let him know what was going on. It was one of several calls she’d made, considering she and the younger brunette’d made sure someone got in touch with his family to let even them know what’d happened and what was being done to correct the problem.

As it turned out, the shorter blonde’d been hanging out with him when he’d gotten the call, and had insisted on coming out East with him when he said he was gonna visit him. They might not’ve parted on the best terms a few Years ago, but that didn’t mean he didn’t consider him a friend anymore. His face turned a Light shade of pink as he admitted that he was aware he might not _wanna_ see him, but he was still gonna come and find out how he was doing for himself, then leave if he really wanted him to.

“Hey, I’ll admit that I wanted outta the band while I still had an ounce of Sanity,” the older brunette told him. “And that I wantedja to get help before it was too late.”

“Trust me, I’ve toned shit down since that wreck in May of ’94,” Bret swore, even though he chuckled. “That shit wasn’t fun since broken ribs made it hard just to breathe.”

“He really _has_ toned himself down,” their friend agreed when he shot him a curious look. “I’m not gonna sit here and say he’s completely sober–I’d be lying out my ass, if I did. But compared to even a few Years ago, he might as well be.”

“So, it’s basically down to getting wasted on the Sabbats, but only having a few beers here and there in between?” Bobby asked.

“Yeah, I’d say that’s a fitting description,” he answered, nodding.

“Now that, I can live and work with,” the older brunette chuckled. “’Cuz that’s really no worse than what Lyric does when she decidesta let loose. She saves getting out-and-out wasted for something like the Sabbats, but has the occasional weekend where she’ll do a few shots in between.”

“I’m sure a lotta that hasta do with the kids, though,” Bret said.

“Well, yeah.” He flashed them a thumbs-up in lieu of trying to nod since he doubted that’d fly with his surgeon. “Which, by the way, there’s more of than when ya last saw us.”

“Wait, what?” The shorter blonde looked surprised for a moment, then burst into laughter. “Damn, man–been busy, haven’tcha?”

“Oh, I’ll admit that I’ve _been busy,_ if ya wanna put it like that,” Bobby snickered. “But the younger two aren’t mine–they’re Richie’s.”

This seemed to surprise him even more, but he was cut off by several lil giggles from the doorway.

Managing to glance over again, he saw said younger brunette and their shared wife, the latter of whom was carrying the youngest of the bunch. Richie seemed to throw up a mental wall when he spotted Bret, although he was at least cordial enough to nod in acknowledgement of his presence. However, they were all distracted from anything nasty they wanted to say when Zep and Aria scrambled over to his bed and grabbed his hand, each of them grabbing a couple fingers.

The older brunette chuckled as he looked down at them as best he could, quick to reassure them that he was on the mend. He’d no doubt that even Soleil and Lachlan were scared, considering how he’d gone to work seemingly fine, then not come home like he normally did. But just the fact that he was awake, talking, and able to squeeze their hands seemed to bring them some relief, which was what he wanted.

“I guess I’m just surprised to see Bret here since I never could get in touch with him last Night,” Lyric mused from where she was now settled in her younger husband’s lap.

“That’s ’cuz he was hanging out with me at my place,” Rikki laughed. “So, ya still wound up getting in touch with him–ya just didn’t realize it.”

“Hey, whatever works,” she chuckled with a shrug.

“When Rik said he was coming out here ’cuz Bobby’d gotten hurt bad enough to need surgery–well, if he wanted me to leave, that’s fine, but I wanted to see him for myself,” the shorter blonde said with a shrug of his own.

“If I didn’t wantcha here, the nurse woulda been calling security before she ever left,” Bobby chuckled.

“Yeah, you’ve definitely never really been one to hide when ya didn’t like someone’s presence,” he told him. “Well, as long as they _weren’t_ a record label exec and showing it could make or break a record deal, that is.”

“Hey, I know when to hold my tongue and when to let it fly!” the older brunette laughed. “And even if I hadn’t back then, Gods know I would now.”

“Seriously,” Richie agreed with a smirk. “Then again, teaching brats Day in and Day out’d teach that ability to just about anyone.”

“Wait, what?” The shorter blonde looked confused.

“We’re both band directors now,” he explained. “Rob works up at the high school across the street from our house, I work at the middle school next door.”

Bret seemed surprised to hear that, but then again, he hadn’t exactly kept in touch with the Dall-Kotzen family after they’d left California. Part of him’d thought that they wouldn’t find the Happiness they were looking for wherever they wound up, and that they’d eventually come crawling back to strike up the band again, as it were. Hearing that they’d apparently managed to find something they liked doing just as much was surprising, but at the same Time, it made him smile. At least they weren’t hurting for money or otherwise in some kinda trouble, even if he’d rather have his band whole again.

The poor guy couldn’t help a yelp moments later, although he somehow managed not to move aside from reaching down to cup his crotch. Naturally, the kids were startled and let out soft shrieks of their own, which apparently caught the nurse’s attention from down the hall. It wasn’t more than a minute before Rowan appeared, a concerned look on her face when she saw how red her patient’s was.

“Mr. Dall, what’s wrong?” she asked, taking note of how stiff he was and how he was cupping himself through his blanket.

All Bobby could do was whimper as he bit his lip, not trusting himself to open his mouth without screaming in pain.

“Ah, ha.” The nurse knelt down once she’d managed to get Rikki to scoot back. “Well, this is prolly gonna require a call upstairs, just to play it safe.”

“What happened?” the taller blonde asked, having hauled Zep and Aria into his lap.

“I think one of these lil boogers stepped on the extension to his catheter,” Rowan chuckled. “Prolly nothing to worry about, but I’d still rather get the urologist down here to be sure.”

“Whas a cath–catha–” Zep started, stumbling over the word she’d used.

“Is a skinny lil tube that’s put into his boy parts so he can pee without having to get up to go to the bathroom,” she explained.

All the kids’ eyes widened, the lil boy cupping himself protectively.

“Chu or chu sissy stepped on the extension tube that connects it to a special bag, and Daddy felt it when chu did dat,” the nurse continued. “I’ma call the special doctor who deals with theseta make sure it didn’t get pulled out too much, dat way it can be replaced, if it did.”

“We’re just gonna have to be more careful till it can be taken out for good,” Richie told them.

Rowan nodded as she rose so she could go page the urologist, already knowing the catheter’d been pulled at least partially out. Judging by the way he was biting his lip, the older brunette was no doubt still in pain from the balloon being pulled into a weird spot without being deflated enough, but he was trying not to scare the kids. If that was the case, it was definitely better to let the urologist evaluate him to be sure there wasn’t any significant internal damage.

No more than five minutes later, the nurse was Returning with a man who bore a badge that read _Dr. Malcolm Buchanan, MD_. She asked that at least the blondes step out with the kids, knowing that their patient might want the othersta remain for Comfort reasons. Both blondes nodded, each one carrying two of the kids as they stepped out and said they’d get to go back in once their daddy’d been evaluated.

Bobby couldn’t help another whimper as the urologist gently flipped his blankets off him and pulled up the gown he’d been stuck in at some point. Not only was he feeling a weird pressure in his lower belly that hadn’t been there before, but it was definitely painful. The younger brunette gently grabbed his right hand since the doctor was working from his left side, murmuring to him to just breathe. He knew how he was feeling, considering he’d once pulled his own catheter out a lil too far like this before he was discharged to deal with it at home. Such pain wasn’t necessarily excruciating unless the pressure was maintained for too long, or it was pulled completely out without proper prep, but it still hurt all the same.

The older brunette finally stopped biting his lip and heaved a sigh of relief as he felt that pain and pressure slowly disappear. His entire body relaxed back against his bed, his thighs no longer looking like they were made outta Steel or something, which was a good sign. Once the balloon’d been deflated, Dr. Buchanan got to work on removing this particular catheter for a couple different reasons. It’d be easier to fully evaluate him without it in the way, and it was better to start over with a fresh catheter instead of trying to shove this one back into its original position.

“Is that normal?” he asked, looking horrified when he saw a bit of blood upon accidentally pissing himself as that catheter was removed.

“It happens sometimes when a catheter’s pulled a lil too far out without deflating the balloon first,” the urologist answered, nodding. “Nothing that won’t Heal on its own in a couple Days, though.”

“So, is it smart to be putting another one back in?” Bobby couldn’t help biting his lip again, this Time in a worried gesture.

“It’ll be best unless you’ve someone here to handja a urinal whenever ya need it,” he told him. “’Cuz even though it’ll prolly Heal into whatever cut got made a bit, our only other choice’s constantly moving ya to change your bedding–which Dr. Morgan _doesn’t_ wanna do, if we don’t have to.”

“I’ve already taken a couple weeks off, man,” Richie spoke up. “And something tells me we won’t even have to try talking Rikki or Bret into staying out here to help out with shit like that, if need be.”

“Oh, Rikki’d do it in a heartbeat, no questions asked, if you’re unavailable,” the older brunette chuckled. “Not too sure about Bret, and besides, he and I still aren’t on the best of terms.”

“Well, think about it this way, love,” Lyric spoke up. “If he proves he’s willing to help with shit like that, it could be a start to rebuilding what the drugs and booze at least partially Destroyed.”

“Yeah, that’s definitely true,” his younger equivalent agreed, nodding. “If he’s serious about wanting to rebuild the friendship to a point where the band could eventually be reformed, he won’t complain about helping ya piss in a milk jug, for lack of a better way to put it.”

“They’re right,” Dr. Buchanan said, unable to help a laugh. “Sure, it’ll no doubt be weird for both of y’all, but there’s weirder things on the Planet.”

Bobby snorted as he said that he already knew how much weirder this kinda shit could get, if only ’cuz he’d already been on the End they were talking about putting one of the blondes on. That made Richie blush slightly, but he still explained one of the biggest reasons for the band imploding, which made the urologist’ve a bit of a Light bulb moment. No doubt it’d been even weirder for them since they knew each other, but not quite as well as his patient and the blondes knew each other.

With the decision _not_ to cath him again, if he’d somebody to help him made, he left him to get some rest on the grounds that he stayed abed like he was supposed to. That allowed Rikki, Bret, and the kidsta come back in, and said drummer was more than willing to essentially take a shift in staying with him so he could help him. At the same Time, the vocalist looked a lil dubious about it, but still agreed to helping him however he could–even if it was weird and embarrassing for them both. His main concern was that his friend recover like he was supposed to, so he was willing to help him piss in a milk jug. None of them were surprised he drew the line at helping wipe his ass, though, but at least it was a start at rebuilding their friendship.


	11. Eleven

It took about six weeks after his surgery for Bobby to really feel up to doing anything besides just lazing around the house, which he considered highly outta character for himself. Luckily, by the Time he felt up to doing shit like helping to weed Lyric’s Flower beds since he was told no yard-mowing for at least three months, he was able to lose the damn cervical collar. He still needed special support for his head and neck, but at least he was able to sleep in his bed again, rather than the recliner they’d moved into the sitting area that was finally not a mini-nursery.

A couple Days after _Beltane,_ he decided he was heading over to Eastern for the Day once school started, and for a couple different reasons. First and foremost, he wanted to check in on all his classes and find out how they’d been doing with his wife as their band director for the rest of the semester. He knew damn good and well she was more than capable of handling things, but he still wanted to check on his students.

His second reason was ’cuz he felt that in a way, that classroom housed a demon that was gonna torment him for the rest of his Life, if he didn’t face it head-on. Maybe he hadn’t been cleared to go back to work and prolly wouldn’t be till the start of the next school Year, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t pay a visit or three in the meantime. Besides, it’d reassure the kids–especially those in his first-period class who’d witnessed him go down–that he really _was_ on the mend.

“Well, good Morn, Rob!” Mrs. Gentry said, surprise coloring her features as she sprang up from her chair when he walked into the office, Bret and Rikki hot on his heels.

“Hey there, Regina,” he chuckled, more than a lil glad he was easily a foot taller than her when she moved to give him a tight hug.

“I’m glad to see ya in better shape than I heardja where when ya left here last Time,” the receptionist laughed.

“A lot better shape, actually,” Bobby reported with a grin. “Still working on Healing entirely and getting the range of motion I’m used to back, but hey, at least I’ve been cleared to lose the cervical collar and get my stitches taken out.”

“Wow, already?” she asked as all four principals emerged from their officesta find out what was going on.

 _“Mmm hmm.”_ The older brunette managed to tilt his head back so the scar on his throat was visible. “It’s fuckin’ gnarly, but hey, I’d rather be alive and have the scar than dead.”

“Certainly good to see that, compared to the last Time I saw ya,” Dave chuckled. “I’d ask how you’ve been, but Lyric’s been keeping us updated as much as she could.”

“Yeah, it was pretty rough at first,” he admitted. “If not for Richie and these two talking some sense into both of us a few Times, the few Times I snapped at her when I was in pain mighta been a marriage-killer.”

“Ah, I doubt that, dude,” Rikki chuckled. “Ya know that woman loves ya enough to walk right through the Fires of Hell for ya, even if they peel her stupid skin off when she does it.”

“Yeah, andja didn’t hear half the shit I said to her in the master bedroom when she’d _mother Hen_ me too much, either,” Bobby dead-panned, a bemused look on his face. “Whyddaya think she kept hiding in Richie’s room so much those first couple weeks?”

“You’re talking about Woodlawn’s band director, right?” Kristy Hunt asked, looking surprised.

He started to play it off as the younger brunette simply being their roommate, so his wife’d used his bedroom as a safe Haven of sortsta avoid any serious fighting. But the look on Dave Ebert’s face made him finally heave a sigh as he crossed his arms, the blondes able to tell he was feeling caged. In fact, both of them grabbed and squeezed his shoulders in a show of support, Bret having finally come to terms with him willingly sharing his wife ’cuz it made the entire trio happy.

“Yes, I’m talking about Mr. Kotzen,” he answered. “He kinda lives with us for a reason, after all.”

All four principals and even the receptionist shot him curious looks.

“I wasn’t gonna say anything at first, ’cuz I don’t consider it anyone’s business but my own,” the older brunette said. “Not only that, but it’s the reason my band imploded before I went back to school for my degree, and I was hoping to _not_ have to go through that bullshit again.”

“Language, Rob,” the head principal warned him.

“I’m not watching my mouth for shit when A) there’s no students present right now, and B) I’m prolly about to get fired on the spot, anywhore,” Bobby retorted. “’Cuz I’m sure with your Southern values, you’re not gonna like hearing me say that I _willingly_ share my wife with Richie as a Romantic partner.”

All their jaws dropped in shock, the blondes keeping their expressions neutral.

“My band imploded ’cuz this one–” He reached up to momentarily cover Bret’s hand with his own. “–interrupted one of their private Nights and assumed they were having an affair. Truth was, I knew what they were doing–I even encouraged it so my wife’d be happy.”

“Wait, what?” André Henry asked, somehow finding his voice again.

“We don’t believe in cheating any more than I’m sure y’all do,” the older brunette elaborated. “But my wife’s just flighty enough in her tastes that she didn’t wanna settle for just _one_ man. Since sharing her not only makes her happy, but allows me more Freedom to be myself, rather than trying to live up to some nonexistent, unattainable standard of perfection…”

“Ya _do_ realize the school board’s not gonna like hearing about this, right?” Dave asked.

“Whyddaya think Richie and I’ve both let everyone we work with think he’s just our roommate or something?” Bobby countered. “’Cuz even though we set a standard for our students most folks don’t due to some of the shit we’ve been through, we’re not stupid–we know we’re in the Bible Belt, and that things’re a lot different here than in California.”

“Backward, I’d say,” Bret snorted. “But to each their own, if ya ask me.”

The older brunette gently slapped his wrist in a Silent warning to shut up, ’cuz he was already in enough trouble as it was, and he knew it. He didn’t need his friend making things worse for him–not to mention his younger equivalent since he was no doubt about to get called up from the middle school. If he’d any Hopes of retaining his job, rather than heading down to the band room to collect his wife and bid a final goodbye to his students, said friends needed to keep quiet.

Sure enough, Bobby was sent back to the head principal’s office like a child in trouble, Mrs. Gentry calling down to the band room for his wife as asked of her. In the principal’s office, he settled in one of the chairs in front of his desk, the stubbornness of being a fixed sign coming out as he crossed his arms again. Once settled in his own chair, he made a quick call down to Woodlawn to have their band director sent up for this lil powwow he’d have called a firing meeting. But he wasn’t about to let this man and his half-backward views intimidate him–not when his friends were wanting to get their old band back together and he’d plenty of money from past record sales, anywhore.

“Rob–what on Earth’re ya doing here? Ya haven’t been cleared to come back to work,” Lyric said once she walked into Dave’s office and saw him.

“Just have a seat, Mrs. Dall,” Dave said, his tone rather cool compared to what she was used to.

Startled, the young woman simply stood behind her older husband and gently gripped his shoulders. “I’d prefer to remain standing, if you’re gonna use that kinda tone with me, sir.”

Moments later, there was a knock at the door and Richie was quick to peek in. “Uh, I was just told I was being requested up here, Mr. Ebert?”

“Have a seat, Mr. Kotzen,” the head principal said, glancing at the empty chair next to the couple.

He was definitely nervous now, but nodded as he did so.

“Now, I want all three accounts of why y’all thought it was a good idea to hide this ridiculous Love triangle from the school system,” he said.

“Rob!” the young woman exploded. “I oughta fuck up what Dr. Morgan fixed last month for opening your big mouth!”

“If _you_ were getting the parental _don’t-lie-to-me_ kinda look I was, ya wouldn’t have done any different, andja know it, sweetheart,” Bobby retorted.

The younger brunette simply sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “I certainly wouldn’t have, but damn it–there goes _that_ quiet, sedate Life we were leading out here.”

Glaring at the head principal, Lyric told him that as far as she was concerned, it was no one’s business but their own who she was involved with. As long as all directly-involved parties knew and consented, that was all that mattered to her, not the opinions of outside parties. It wasn’t like they were raising heathens within their home, nor carrying on in front of students like they’d rather be doing, as far as the tamer PDA went.

Dave’s eyes widened since he’d never seen her show her temper before, ’cuz she seemed like she never got mad at anything. And if she _did_ get mad at something, she was apparently pretty damn good at keeping herself in check so she could explode in private, rather than making a public spectacle of herself–as well as her family. Still, this issue’d to be addressed, now that he was aware of one of his actual employees doing some things that he, personally considered shady when he was off campus. If it _wasn’t_ addressed, he technically wouldn’t be doing his job as a principal, which could get him fired as easily as he could fire this man.

“I’m sorry to have to do this, Rob–but your position _hasta_ be terminated,” he finally sighed after getting the other pair’s accounts. “We can’t have one of our teachers doing this kinda thing, even outside school hours and off campus–it sets a bad example for the students, either way.”

“I can tell that’s your personal opinion, not that of a logical administrator, but fine,” Bobby said. “Five minutes, and I’ll have my office cleaned out.”

“This is exactly why we _didn’t_ tell anyone,” his wife snapped. “’Cuz we knew ya wouldn’t even _try_ to understand, ’cuz nobody in the South’s very open-minded.”

“I wouldn’t be making any kinda accusations right now, Mrs. Dall,” Dave warned her.

“Oh, make an appointment to suck my left lady nut,” she told him. “’Cuz this has always been more of a _fuck-you_ job for us than not. We just wanted to have something to do with ourselves besides laze around, and if helping others with learning how to play instruments served a purpose, so mote it be.”

The head principal’s eyes widened when she pulled something outta her pocket and hung it around her neck, allowing them to see that it was her Pentacle. Both husbands shot a look at each other, then nodded Silently as they reached into their own pockets and did the same. Richie’d since converted in his own right, and he wasn’t the least bit scared to admit that he was a Witch as much as his older equivalent was under certain circumstances.

With their Pentacles hanging from their throats, the trio headed off to the band room so Bobby and Lyric could collect their personal belongings. Once that was done, they both stepped in to bid a final goodbye to the concert band, who’d been waiting on the young woman to Return from the office so they could get back to work. Neither were surprised that the members who’d also been a part of the marching band shot up outta their sets with outraged cries once they explained what was going on. Hell, even a few of those who were just now finding out were outraged and turned dirty looks on the principal who’d followed them. But it was Johnny and Nathan who really gave him a piece of their minds as they all but threw their instruments across the room.

“After the shit he’s been through in the last six weeks, you’re gonna fire him over choosing to share his wife with another man?” the brunette teen roared.

“Count me as skipping then, Mr. Ebert,” his blonde classmate agreed. “This man’s set a better example for us the entire school Year than any other teacher I’ve ever had, and he doesn’t deserve this.”

“Ditto, man.” Even Joey practically threw his instrument toward the storage room. “I’ll be damned, if I stay on this campus when you’re being so unfair just ’cuz we live in the South.”

“I’m sure the parents’ll be saying differently, Mr. Harward,” the principal said coolly. “Now, Return to your seat.”

“Fuck you!” the trio snapped in unison, a few others getting up to put away their instruments.

Bobby was proud of his students for standing up for what they believed in, even if he thought they coulda and prolly shoulda gone about it a lil differently. From the looks of things, Lyric and Richie were just as proud of them, but not showing it outwardly any more than he was. Course, they knew damn good and well they were about to go through hell just down the Hill when they headed down there for the younger brunette to collect his own personal belongings. Even if he decided to quit on the spot rather than allow himself to be fired, he’d still have to collect his things since he wasn’t gonna just leave them behind.

Within an hour, both men’d officially been terminated from their positions, collected their belongings, and taken them back home. The handful of teenagers from the high school who refused to stay on campus with the principal being so unfair joined them across the street, even when Dave threatened to call their parents. In no uncertain terms, they made it clear they’d just as soon drop out and work as roadies for these two for the rest of their Lives as opposed to setting foot back on Eastern’s campus.

Settled in his recliner once they’d taken care of those things, the older brunette apologized to his younger equivalent and their shared wife. Both were quick to forgive him, ’cuz they understood his reasons and knew that it was eventually gonna come to this. After all, they’d known it was eventually gonna affect Poison somehow, and they’d been right about that–being right about it now wasn’t really any different, if one asked them.

It was Bret who finally said that–once the dust over this issue settled–if he really wanted to get the band back together once he’d recovered, it was certainly an option. They’d talk about it more after his recovery, ’cuz while _he’d_ actually been getting back on better terms with a certain Cracker Jack of a guitarist, the rest of his former band hadn’t been for various reasons. Besides, no matter how much he wanted the band back together, it shouldn’t be at the cost of his Health since that’d wind up breaking up the band again sooner than it wouldn’t. The older bassist nodded as he agreed that it was certainly an option, but he wasn’t holding his breath for anything just yet.

All they could do at this point was hope and pray none of the trio suffered _too_ big a backlash, considering that it wasn’t like they were actually doing anything illegal–but only Time’d tell for sure.


	12. Twelve

Word quickly spread that not only had two teachers within the Alamance-Burlington School System been fired over some questionable morality practices, but that there were two former rock stars living in such a small Town. Naturally, the cops got involved when both of those former rock stars referred to the same woman as their wife, the legal system looking for just about any way they could to imprison at least one of them. The woman in question certainly hadn’t been kidding about things being done far differently here than they were anywhere else in the country, that was for damn sure.

Luckily for them, no charges could be brought against any of them for _anything,_ if the cops wanted said chargesta actually stick. No matter where they looked across the Planet, there wasn’t a marriage license between a Robert Kuykendall and Elysia Braxton, nor one between a Richard Kotzen, Jr. and Elysia Braxton, to be spoken of. Bigamy charges couldn’t be brought against the young woman since she wasn’t legally married to either of her men, especially simultaneously. They all paid their taxes on anything in their names, and none of them tried to hide their income when they filed taxes just a couple months ago. None of them’d tried to deny any income or hide anything on their taxes in Years past either, so even that couldn’t be used as evidence of anything illegal.

Considering that there was nothing illegal about being with two men at once, as long as there weren’t dual _legal_ marriages going on, there was no way to even arrest any of the trio. All the cops could do at that point was close the case and drop it, ’cuz they ran the risk of having a harassment suit filed, if they didn’t. In fact, all three’d threatened to do just that, if the Chief didn’t back off once he found nothing, which’d caught the county sheriff’s attention.

But no thanksta everything from Bobby and Richie being fired to the criminal investigation making the local news, it all went national, too. Not only were they hounded by their neighbors and other folks in their community, but they started getting paparazzi and other reporters camping outside their fence. That’d led to Lyric threatening to start a body Garden somewhere on the property, ’cuz she was gonna start shooting as soon as she opened the front door, if they didn’t back off. At least just making the threat worked so they could go out and _try_ to live as normally as possible, and she didn’t actually have to resort to Violence. Then again, that was what she’d Intended since the cops obviously weren’t gonna help them with their safety just ’cuz of their Romantic choices, which certainly wasn’t fair.

Eventually, though, they were forced to sit down with one of the World’s newest rock magazines for an interview none of them wanted to give. Both rockers and their wife all felt like they were never gonna get any Peace, no matter where they went, if they didn’t say _something_. The Thought of going public with their relationship made all of them wanna hurl, but it seemed to be their only recourse at this point.

“So, start at the very Beginning,” the reporter they were sitting down with–a Christine Rockingham from a magazine called _Uncut_ –said. “How’dja meet this young woman?”

“Long story short, we met in a bar and I felt sorry for her due to some not-so-good circumstances she was dealing with at the Time,” Bobby answered. “I found a way to get her on the _Flesh and Blood_ tour as a roadie and pianist for _Something to Believe In,_ which turned out to be an invaluable help since I can’t play two instruments at once.”

“Sounds like a pretty mundane meeting for a rocker,” she laughed.

“Yeah, kinda–but it paved the way for some pretty incredible things, as far as I’m concerned,” the older brunette said. “If it wasn’t for her, I can’t guarantee I’d have kept the son I had with an ex, which means I prolly wouldn’t be the man I am now.”

“Sounds like an incredible woman,” Christine mused, smiling at all of them.

“Incredible enough that I didn’t even have to ask her to sign his Birth certificate and become my son’s legal mother–she just did it, no questions asked,” he admitted. “Not to mention gave me a chance as even her boyfriend while we were touring the country and raising a baby on a bus, then later handfasted with me since she refused to legally wed.”

“Handfasting’s a Pagan marriage outta Celtic culture,” Lyric explained with a chuckle when the woman looked confused. “Think more of a Spiritual marriage, but still marriage all the same.”

_“Ahhhh,_ I gotcha,” the reporter said, nodding.

“Four months after our handfasting, when she was four months pregnant with our daughter, was when the band met Richie when he came in to audition,” Bobby continued.

“So, she met him as innocently as she met the rest of ya,” she mused.

“Pretty much.” The older brunette nodded. “Now, the thing about Lyric’s that she believes in Fate prolly more than he and I combined do, although even _we_ believe in Fate more than we used to.”

Naturally, Christine was curious as to what he meant, which just made him grin as they each took turns grabbing their shared wife’s hand. Unbelievably, the small sparks that got set off could not only be felt by each pair, but seen and heard by the crew interviewing them. There was definitely no denying that when the young woman tried grabbing each of said crew’s hands, but no spark was formed like there’d been with each of her husbands.

Chuckling as he settled back again, the older brunette wrapped an arm around said wife’s shoulders as he explained what’d just happened. Up till they’d met Richie, he was the only one she’d ever had that happen with, which’d essentially been a sign from something bigger that they were literally meant to be. Having it happen with his younger equivalent meant that they were just as meant to be–but that posed a bit of a problem.

“See, none of us believe in or condone cheating to _any_ extent,” Bobby explained. “Therefore, I knew damn good and well my wife wasn’t gonna cheat on me. I could be laid up in a coma and she be told she _had_ to reproduce with _someone_ physically capable ’cuz she and this other party were the last two humans on the Planet, and she’d chooseta let the human race die out before she cheated.”

“Wow, that’s some _serious_ Dedication,” the reporter breathed, her eyes wide with Awed surprise.

“Which’s exactly why none of that garbage from a few Years ago about Richie and I getting caught having an affair’s true,” Lyric said.

“I knew what she was up to–well, sans explicit detail, that is,” the older brunette added.

“We all agreed that he and I didn’t wanna know what she did with the other, and she wouldn’t talk about it with us _unless_ she was talking to us about something that’d happened between her and one of us, if that makes any sense,” Richie spoke up.

“Um, not quite sure it does,” she admitted, now looking a bit confused.

“Okay, let’s try putting it this way… I don’t wanna know if he likes having his ears nibbled or not, whether he’s a rocket launcher stuffed in his britches or a needle dick, etc.–and _he_ doesn’t wanna know that kinda shit about me,” the younger brunette chuckled.

“I don’t even wanna know if her favorite position with him’s the same as her favorite with me,” his older equivalent laughed. “If I wanted to know all that shit, we’d be having threesomes all the Time.”

“Since we don’t have threesomes–in fact, we’ve _never_ had one–it’s basically two separate relationships when it comesta Romance and sex,” their shared wife said.

“Those’re the _only_ parts she hides from either of us,” Richie said. “But I wouldn’t exactly refer to it as _hiding,_ if it was a mutual decision to _not_ talk about those kinda things as a group.”

“Yeah, that doesn’t exactly sound like she’s hiding anything to me, either,” Christine agreed. “So, I’m guessing it’s safe to assume thatcha knew about her being with Richie at the Time those accusations of an affair were made?”

Nodding, Bobby admitted that he’d encouraged their getting together for a few different reasons, his top one being that he just wanted to see his wife happy. She’d fallen in Love with various characteristics they had, but both didn’t necessarily have in common with one another. For instance, the younger brunette’d the blue eyes she tended to love more than any other eye Color, whereas his own were just as brown as hers. Lyric also enjoyed that he was a lil paler than her older husband, not to mention some of the sensitive spots they shared–which she still wouldn’t list–were more sensitive than his equivalent’s were.

Another thing the young woman enjoyed was that Richie was a lil on the lazier side, which was almost the perfect Balance for them. She wouldn’t deny being so lazy, it wasn’t even funny, which was mostly due to her rheumatoid arthritis making it hard for her to move around without being in pain. Her older husband was so active, he almost never seemed to run outta Energy–he even squirmed and wiggled a lot in his sleep.

Laughing, the reporter said she could see why she wouldn’t wanna settle for just one of them, if there were various physical and personality traits she liked in each of them. But she could also understand why she wouldn’t wanna cheat on either of them, if she was as honest as she seemed already. No doubt each and every lie she’d have to tell’d kill her a lil more inside till the woman she was at heart simply didn’t exist anymore, and none of them wanted that to happen.

“Which was exactly why she and I talked about it, and I finally decided that sharing her was worth it, if it meant seeing her happy,” Bobby said. “I’d rather share her–whether it’s with Richie or someone else–and see her happy as opposed to keeping her to myself and seeing her miserable.”

“Granted, that’s not to say that I wasn’t insanely nervous when he called me into their bedroom so we could _all_ talk about it,” the younger brunette admitted with a chuckle. “It felt quite a bit like getting called into the principal’s office recently, if I’m honest.”

_“That_ certainly wasn’t the Intent that Night!” he laughed as he looked around their wife at him.

“Oh, I know that now, but c’mon,” Richie retorted. “Howddaya think _you’d_ feel when your band mate and landlord was calling ya into whatcha considered the _West Wing_ of the house ’cuz you’d already been told _not_ to go in there?”

_“Touché,_ man,” the older brunette chuckled. “I can see why you’d have felt that way.”

“Next thing on the list was complete and utter shock,” he continued, having turned his attention back to the reporter. “I mean, what else can ya expect when the woman you’re attracted to and her husband sitcha down to basically say, _Go break your own bed if ya wanna, but don’t even_ look _at mine, if you’re horny?”_

“That’s really what they said?” Christine asked with a laugh.

“Not in those words exactly, but that was the basic gist of it,” he answered.

“Too bad that bed proved to be too strong for even a pregnant woman and a desperate young man to break,” Lyric snickered, gently elbowing his ribs.

“No, _that_ was ’cuz I didn’t wanna get my ass kicked for breaking you _or_ the then-unborn baby,” Richie snarked back, a grin on his face.

“Such a gentleman,” the reporter chuckled.

Nodding, their shared wife admitted that that was a personality trait they both shared that she’d fallen head-over-cowboy-boots for right off the bat. Both’d their extremely wild sides–especially when they were even tipsy, let alone completely wasted–but they were always gentlemen. If she said no to anything, whether they were sober or any amount of inebriated, that was it–they backed off and left her alone, even when she _didn’t_ threaten to bean them with something, if they didn’t.

Bobby took over again by explaining that they’d hidden the dual relationships from even the other half of Poison at first ’cuz the World already knew she was with him. They hadn’t wanted to sit down for this very kinda interview back then, mostly ’cuz they didn’t consider it anyone’s business but their own. It was for that very same reason they hadn’t disclosed any of thista their now-former employers since no laws were being broken.

“Rikki only found out when he did ’cuz he walked in on me giving her a _thank-you_ kiss after she–ahem, Calmed me down before we went on for our first show together after I joined the band,” Richie said. “And no, I’m not explaining what she did–Bobby already said he doesn’t wanna know, and that’s reason enough for me to _not_ say it on camera.”

Everybody in the room erupted into laughter, but quickly Calmed again.

“Granted, he thought the same thing at first–that she was cheating, and I’d no idea that she was,” the older brunette said. “Difference was, _he_ actually listened when we sat him down and explained it to him after that particular show.”

“He even agreed that–with the shape he was in at the Time–Bret _shouldn’t_ be told, if we didn’t want it making tabloid headlines,” Lyric added.

“That backfired when Bobby went to hang out with Rikki that Fateful Night so she and I could have our private Night together,” the younger brunette dead-panned. “He thought it was _Bobby_ hiding on our bus and somehow got the spare key to let himself on so he could find him.”

“Needlessta say, we were all sick of his shit,” Bobby told her. “So, when he insisted on firing Richie on the spot without hearing any of us out–well, Rikki and I _quit_ on the spot till he could get his act together.”

“And that apparently never happened,” the reporter mused.

“Well, kinda, sorta,” he corrected her. “He started to clean up enough to start writing songs for another album–then got into that wreck in ’94.”

“Once they _finally_ got the album done, only for it to be shelved, Bobby decided he wanted out while he still had a lil Sanity left,” Lyric said. “So, we moved out here to my home State and started leading a more sedate Life than we’d led before.”

“Which also backfired, apparently.” She wore a bemused look of her own.

“Pretty much, but hell–I’ve kinda been wanting to get Poison back together.” The older brunette shrugged. “We’ll see if that happens since I’m still recovering from surgery, and if we can get everyone on board or not.”

“After all, Bret and I still have some bad blood between us that we need to settle, if we’re talking the _Native Tongue_ lineup,” Richie said. “If we’re talking the original lineup, then Bobby and Rikki still have yet to get on better terms with CC instead.”

“But either way, you’re not letting this most recent drama hold either of ya back, are ya?” Christine asked.

“Fuck, no,” they both spat like they’d a mouthful of acid.

“Let folks question our character and morality–actions speak louder than words ever will,” Bobby said vehemently.

“If they wanna think of us as inherently bad just ’cuz we share our wife like a child’s toy, then that’s their problem, not ours,” the younger brunette agreed. “We’ve other things we can do with ourselves and our Time, other waysta make money to care for our family–we don’t need the rest of the World as much as they need us.”

The reporter certainly couldn’t disagree with that particular sentiment as they wrapped up their interview, the entire trio starting to get a bit cranky. After all, none of them’d wanted to even give an interview addressing their personal Lives, or what the Future of Poison could possibly be after all this Insanity died down. When one added in that it was pushing their normal lunchtime and the older brunette was still sore after his surgery, they really couldn’t be blamed for their downward turn in moods.

Once they’d gotten unwired and washed off as much of the makeup they’d been stuck in to avoid looking washed-out on camera as they could, they were quick to blow that joint. Even though at least half the town looked at them crossways now, they didn’t let that stop them from living a relatively normal Life. That included going out lunch since none of them were in the mood to cook at the moment and certainly wouldn’t be by the Time they got back home. At least they didn’t have the kids with them–they were back home with Bret and Rikki as their babysitters–so at least they wouldn’t have to see any of the Hate thrown at their parents. If there was a Silver lining in any of this, they could at least say it was that much, if nothing else and leave it at that.

At one of the local, slightly higher-End Italian restaurants, the trio was glad that the owner of the place _wasn’t_ one of those who looked at them crossways. In fact, the man grinned as he led them to the most private table in the place, saying that he was one of those in their situation. Granted, he’d taken two wives instead of sharing his wife with another man, but aside from the fame angle, he still knew how they felt.

Settled in their lil booth so that Lyric was sammiched between her menfolk, none of them dared to heave even a figurative sigh of relief. They knew it’d be a while yet before the dust settled, and they didn’t wanna jinx themselves this soon outta the starting gate, so to speak. All they wanted wasta get through lunch and back home in technically three pieces so they could just see where the dominos fell. Once they knew that much, they could start deciding on shit like whether or not to move back to California instead of staying in North Carolina. It wasn’t what any of them wanted to do–they’d moved out here for a reason, after all–but they’d rather give up living in the country than be hated by everyone in town. Maybe they could look into moving out to the Desert of Arizona or something, if they wound up having to move at all.

Any and all Thoughts and talk of what their next move should be was quickly dispelled as their food started arriving, the first being their _antipasti_. Richie and Bobby weren’t exactly wowed by simple mozzarella sticks, but their shared wife grinned as she dipped the first of hers. She assured them that she’d been here before, and even if they weren’t wowed now, they _would_ be by the Time they left. It wasn’t nearly as good as their own cooking, but it was pretty good for a place that wasn’t quite authentic Italian. Both shrugged, more than glad to focus on deciding whether they liked the fare or not over focusing on anything else for the Time being.


End file.
